


Because of the Shame

by KathyIsWeird



Series: Because of the Shame [1]
Category: Rizzoli & Isles, The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, I promise this will eventually have a happy ending, Mental Instability, This kinda took off in a different direction, eventual msr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-10-23 06:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 52,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10713648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyIsWeird/pseuds/KathyIsWeird
Summary: She’d dealt with his absences before, but they were always for her safety or out of their control. She’d learned that he would always return, no matter how long he’d been gone.But this time he had left - willingly.Obsessive, determined, loyal-to-a-fault Fox Mulder had abandoned his vows.And now Scully was alone.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in present time. Season 10 has not happened. It’s not really canon but it’s pretty close; the few years between IWTB and now are a void in the storyline so I figured this would explain some things. This won’t be very long but I want it to be very real, very accurate to adult situations and the complexity of long-term relationships. I feel like the series has neglected the after effects of the pair’s time in the field. That they could be explored a little. Originally I wanted to write this a a Mulder-only story. But, after a while I felt like I was demonizing Scully with no explanation. So, I thought I owed it to her to try and give her some time to explain herself too. Feedback is very welcomed - I have not written in a long while, and never for this fandom. I added a few characters from Rizzoli and Isles for fun in some later chapters, but it's 100% okay if you’ve never watched it. They’re just side characters anyway. This sounds angsty-and it very much is but I have a pretty solid idea where it’s going and as always things will work themselves out. :)

 

_It’s known that the human voice can produce roughly 500 different sounds. However, given pitch and volume, the number is infinite. With those sounds, humanity has formulated about 6,500 languages over the span of 2600 years. The average person knows 3 languages, at least in North America._

_However, staring out the window through watery eyes, Dana Scully forgot every word of every single one she knew._

_It was obvious something was wrong when she drove up and the gate was already open. He would never do that, years of running made them both hyper-aware of their surroundings and too careful about security._

_It was a mistake, obviously, Mulder was only human. More so than she was, actually._

_Slowly she drove down the rocky path, her eyes scoping out their land. The pop! of the gravel against her tires punctuated her slow trek down the driveway. She squinted against the sun and peered in the dense foliage that gated their home- a natural wall of protection. That’s why they’d agreed on this property in the first place._

_The car stopped in front of their home and she waited, stalling._

_Their home._

_She thought about the semantics of sharing a home that she owned on paper but he’d purchased outright. But, right now, all that mattered was that make sure that her husband was safe._

_They didn’t speak much, more like roommates than spouses- it was just their new way of life._

_She shared a home with a man that she hadn’t spoken to in months. For reasons too raw and too new, she answered no one’s calls. The only person she spoke to was her mother, and that was because it was getting more and more obvious that Maggie Scully’s time on this earth was dwindling. Scully didn’t go out of her way to be social, the majority of her social interactions were with corpses. Dead people were easier to be around._

_With a deep breath she grabbed her purse and locked the car. It was quiet, they had no neighbors for at least a half-mile. Even the animals were silent._

_She tried to unlock the door and found that it was unlocked. A careful nudge with her hip opened the door and she was startled to see the whole house was dark. The foyer, normally illuminated by the electronics they’d accumulated over the years was blanketed in darkness, which was unsettling. She tried the switch and it worked. There were no noises, not the hum of the fish tank or the buzz of a computer in energy-saver mode. No dishwasher cycles, no shuffling of newspapers, nothing. Normally Mulder would be napping in the living room, but she saw no shoes laying around. Was he not there?_

_She dropped her purse on the table and fished her keys out._

_Something wasn’t right. Someone had been here. Things were missing. Not big things, but enough to throw her off as wandered into the next room. Slowly, with cautious movements, she made her way to the spot in the kitchen and opened the locked drawer where her gun was. The clank of her keys landing on the counter startled her it took a moment to slip back into investigative stance. She hadn’t used her gun in years, save for the times she went to the range. Medical Examiners did not usually arm themselves, and even though Scully was the less paranoid of the two, she kept a weapon in her desk, unused as well._

_Did someone find them? They weren’t on the run, but powers far greater than the FBI disliked them for a few reasons. No one had contacted them for years, minus a few freelance reporters, but they were usually politely declined entrance to their gate with a swift "No comment"._

_Sweeping through the living room, she noticed nothing glaringly out of place. Mulder’s blanket was folded on the couch, but that was only strange because he never folded anything. His idea of putting it away was tossing in on the corner cushion and calling it a day._

_She walked through the house, waiting for something to jump out. Her breath came in short gasps, anxiety and adrenaline coursing through her. Weapon at the ready, each room was searched and secured._  


_Her shaky hands reached for the last of two doors, the closet - his closet - almost frightened to see what was inside._

_She’d burst through so many doors in her prime, but now no longer in the field, she was scared of a opening a closet door. She coaxed the heavy oak door open, the older hinges groaning in protest. Gun at the ready, she counted to three and threw the door the rest of the way open._

_Nothing._

_Not nothing like everything was in order, there was legitimately nothing in there. His coats and older suits were missing. Boxes of old case files were now replaced by thin air. There was a small solitary box in the corner, the outside warped by water damage. Probably junk._

_The dusty shelves had been cleaned and it smelled a bit like pine._

_Everything was gone._

_She slammed the door as hard as she could and backed away, her back meeting firmly with the hallway._  


_Where did all of his things go? She had just borrowed an old sweatshirt less than 24 hours ago and everything was in there. She distinctly remembered thumbing through his old college crew necks trying to find the oxford one that was just large enough to sleep in._

_It was all gone._

_Replaced with a cheap tree-shaped air freshener, the kind he used to use when they’d left pastrami subs in their rentals too long._

_She turned to the spare bedroom she had taken to using and nudged the door open with her foot.  It had only been 10 hours since she’d left this very room and apparently she had missed a lot. After the perimeter was cleared, she trained her weapon on her closet door. The decision to separate their clothes was her idea and now she regretted every moment of it. She opened the door._

_Everything looked intact._

_She turned quickly, her movements losing force. It was becoming obvious that Mulder had not been taken. One of her heels caught on a divot in the wood floor and she braced herself on the navy quilt covering the turned down bed. She kicked the offended heels off and away from her and did not care where they went. The gun she released, landed on the bed, bouncing just a little from the force of the drop, and sat next to a cell phone with a dark screen._

_His phone._

_The one with only one number saved._

_She stumbled emotionally over to the dresser and she ripped open drawers, letting them fall to the floor. One of the handles snapped off the vintage piece and she threw it against the wall. The dull thud of the wood hitting the wall amplified her fear. Everything in reach became a victim. Jewelry was shot at the same wall, a bottle of perfume, a candle, and a framed photo of them. Anything and everything was shattered around her.  This tantrum lasted until she picked up the phone and shattered it against the wall, spraying plastic and glass everywhere. Fear for her distant husband’s safety had evolved into rage. All that remained in the rubble was his godforsaken Knicks jersey. How fitting. That jersey could live through anything._

_She gulped down breaths, trying to steady the roaring heartbeat in her ears. Hands shook, bracelets clanking against each other, matching her erratic heartbeat. She slid down onto the bed and let out a feral wail. The room stank of flowers and Chanel #5._

_Breathe._

_Breathe._

_He was gone._

_She’d dealt with his absences before, but they were always for her safety or out of their control. She’d learned that he would always return, no matter how long he’d been gone._

_But this time he had left - willingly._

_Obsessive, determined, loyal-to-a-fault Fox Mulder had abandoned his vows._

_And now Scully was alone._

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the first chapter. Updates will not always be this quick however I don't plan on ditching this story. Feedback is always welcomed. The title is a reference to my favorite song by Against Me! Check it out if you like folk punk and sad tunes.

"Flight 4933 for Newark Liberty International will begin boarding in twenty minutes. Make sure that if you have priority boarding that you have any carry-on bags ready and your passes out. If you have a digital boarding pass, please ensure that the brightness of your screen is turned up all the way to ensure smooth loading. Thank you for flying United and we hope to see you again!"

Mulder rolled his eyes at the too-cheery voice of the very young looking worker at the desk and settled further into his seat. Many, many years of red-eyes and direct flights had seasoned him.

The weather was overcast; ready to pour any minute. Delays were imminent, December in Massachusetts was unpredictable. Out of habit he picked at the faux upholstery of the benches, his bored fingers gliding over the plastic textured bits. Even though the original fabric was long gone, Fox Mulder had memories associated with the garish aquamarine triangles which had replaced with sleek chrome benches at the turn of the century. Even those were outdated and dull. Geeze, it was one thing to cycle through one renovation, but two? Mulder might as well be an artifact.

"Thirty minutes."

Mulder turned slightly to see who had spoken. An unkempt businessman was sprawled out over the bench behind him, probably one of those guys who did whatever they could to avoid going home to their soured marriage. Ouch, too close to home. The disgruntled former agent turned back around, assuming that the man was speaking into one of the Bluetooth headsets – the worst invention since Gameboys. Mulder had been exiting the Bureau when the little headsets had come into fashion, and boy were they irritating when trying to brief anyone. No one ever knew who was talking to them, not to mention the security flaws they had.

"Thirty minutes," the man repeated, this time a bit louder. "That's my guess at least."

Mulder didn't even bother to turn around; he just nodded slowly in case the man was actually speaking to him. The din of the airport was starting to wear his patience thin. Honestly, he hadn't been in any airport for quite a while. There had been no reason to. After his censure in '01 he and Scully had laid low for a decade or so, minus their brief stint in 2008. Even then they'd ridden by helicopter and private charter.

Scully still travelled regularly as the Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. She floated through different counties and occasionally was invited to guest speak at various Universities, the most recent being Dartmouth. He was used to her being gone at all hours of the night and decades of having his ass saved by her taught him that she was capable of protecting herself; even if it was a blow to his masculinity at times. At the radiant age of 53, Dana Katherine Scully was quite an accomplished professional in any field she'd gone into. Her home office was bursting with certificates of recognition and various awards- too many for Mulder to keep track of although he always felt a burst of pride every time she received one even if he had no idea what it was for or why he always had to go to the award dinners with her. Sitting with a room full of sexually repressed Scientists who talk about DNA like an issue of Sports Illustrated were not exactly his crowd. Up until these last few years, Scully and Mulder had been each other's biggest fans, their one-in-five-billion. Now, well, now everything was a mess.

"You're not much of the talking type are you?" that same voice pierced his thoughts like an icepick lobotomy. Mulder considered moving benches, but they'd be boarding soon anyway.

"I spent years talking and very few listened," Mulder mumbled without turning around again. "I'm just a little burnt out on small talk. "

He was grateful when Scully had been assigned in the basement because he was sick of talking to his computer like some sort of whackjob. Even if their conversations were astute at first, his partner had always been blunt and sometimes a little too honest with him. For a non-believer, she was definitely equally as impatient with chatter as he was. Every conversation they'd entertained had some sort of purpose. It was a respect thing, they both knew the other was above halfass weather predictions and celebrity gossip. Those types of things kind of seemed irrelevant when the Government was legitimately turning against it's people.

The drunken man raised himself off the bench and threw his arms around the back, smacking Mulder in the arm.

"I know guys like you. Well dressed, brooding, the whole schtick. Do you think women are going to fall for your nihilism and Old Spice forever? Listen here, what's your name?"

"Mulder."

"Mulder? Sounds familiar. Anyways, okay, Mulder, lemme tell you that eventually you have to embrace what life throws at you and make lemonade out of it." The businessman nonchalantly waved his hand toward the large windows next to them. "Even if this weather is shit, we'll still board the plane, albeit delayed. No need to get fussy because you're going to meet whatever young piece you have in New York. She can wait. Right now? Fix your attitude. Wouldn't want to be stuck on a flight full of assholes who hate you right?"

Try being stuck in a building with them for almost half of your life.

"Well, now that you've gotten me all figured out, I'll just be over here brooding while you sober up."

"I'm not a drunk, asshole. I've just had quite a day," the man tousled his hair back into place and sat up straighter. "The kind that pseudo-males like you couldn't even imagine, See, I was doin' real work. I'm a lawyer!"

Mulder couldn't really help his irritated sigh, he really couldn't. His patience with society had dissipated somewhere around 2002. Once he came back to society, he truly realized just how terrible humans were. Well, other than his complex knowledge of the human psyche. But, as a whole the general populace had succumbed to instant gratifications, to the "We'd like to speak to the manager" attitudes. Even a potential apocalypse and near-alien takeover had done nothing but make a laughingstock of the paranormal.

"Real work?" He kicked himself mentally for caving to this asshole.

"Yeah, I was trying to find a friend. My wife and kid died earlier this year and it's my first Christmas alone," the man said quietly. "My friend said he'd meet me at the airport and we could catch up. But that was hours ago. I'm too proud to admit that I got stood up by the last person that I had left. So, I'm getting drunk at Logan. Classy, right?"

"Oh man," Mulder's tone softened. "I'm so sorry. I'm pretty familiar with losing those close to you. In fact, I kind of made a career out of it. it fucking hurts."

"Yeah, well, I thought I was doing okay until I started spending $7 per can at the counter over there. Did you know that they cut you off after four? What kind of limit is that? It's freakin Bud Light!" the man sighed and laid back down on bench. Mulder swiveled in his seat and threw his legs over the end, facing the other direction. They were quiet for a moment - the businessman fiddling with something on his phone, and Mulder staring at the planes that were landing.

In the past, after spending so long in a paranoid isolation he'd been so taken aback by technology and it's advances that even a flip phone camera had proved too challenging for him. He'd take a Nokia and a memo pad any day. Not these camera phones and touch-screen notepads. In 2012, after almost a decade out of the Bureau, he had finally caved and purchased his first smartphone. Never mind that the "home" button on his previous phone had completely worn down and he could barely hear anyone after he'd maybe dropped it in the toilet a few years back. New phone for new man…or something like that.

Scully, on the other hand, took to technology with ease. It seemed almost paranormal how much their personalities had rubbed off on each other after being partnered for so long. She was always showing him easier ways to do what he was doing on his phone. Who knew that you could video call someone from your phone? It made his life harder because she would facetime him to ask if he was in the basement room clipping papers again, and each time he scrambled to a different room and denied everything.

Although now that she'd stopped teaching at Quantico, the calls tapered off. Lots of things had tapered off, honestly. He missed her. She always said it was because dead bodies required more attention than living ones but Mulder assumed it was because she was in her element and was enjoying being able to find scientifically proven causes of death. No more scrambling to keep the Bureau happy along with attempting to describe their cases in half-truths.

When he'd helped the FBI out in 2008 he had been used and abandoned afterwards. They did not contact him as promised. He received the federal clearance paperwork, but that did very little to mend the break between him and the only other person in his life. Mulder, in an act of immature retribution, had turned himself back into a hermit rather than gallivant across the globe on the FBI's dime. Without a second thought, he was sitting in his den with no less than 100 newspapers and wifi router. Even Scully and her pleading couldn't reach him, the FBI had finally hurt Mulder enough to chase him away from official channels for good. He'd been obsessed beforehand, but that brief stint with the priest really did him in. The hope to someday return to the X-Files with Scully was crushed. Even if it was farfetched, it was the only thing keeping Mulder grounded.

The FBI was a quiet subject in the household now. It was no secret that Scully did not talk about her days in the FBI - to anyone. Mulder just assumed that the memories were too painful. She'd entered the force with a bright future, large aspirations, and a large family. Now, after 20 years she was left with a painful past, a mentally unwell partner, and a mother that was deteriorating as time went on. She had no family. Her brothers used to call, but the phone no longer rang. Every call from Bill and Tara would end with her small frame sobbing in the shower while Mulder brewed tea and made himself scarce.

Scully had two children, and both were gone. Even if William was adopted, it seemed like pretty much the same ache that Mulder had about Samantha. The fact that Scully could get up in the morning and walk amongst the public baffled Mulder. He owed nearly all of his success, if you could call it that, to her. She made the X-Files into something tangible, she made his life purposeful. Without her, Mulder was just a blithering fool yelling about conspiracies to anyone who'd listen. Scully was such an anomaly to Mulder, from the first day she walked into his office all the way to when she'd ceased contact with him only a few months prior.

So, why did he leave?


	3. Chapter 3

Being a profiler was both a blessing and a curse. Toss in a handful of personality disorders and he had a cocktail for insanity. Mulder was a mess, a social savant who could tell you anything about someone after meeting them for only minutes. He could see someone’s record collection and immediately know why they chose those artists. It made working for the public incredibly daunting and eventually turned him into an emotional burnout. It made it easy to buy cars or to avoid those predatory salesmen in mall kiosks, but also it had pretty much ruined him for any voluntary social setting. It was too easy to see through charades and schemes by anyone who approached him. He’d almost felt bonded with Gibson Praise. Why interact with people when they were nothing but untruthful and manipulative?   
  


He’d coasted through the last decade in a consistent disassociation. He was too mentally vulnerable to to cope with the trauma of losing his family, William included. So, as a result he resided in a quiet state of melancholy. Which, for someone with intense unpredictable emotions, was strange. He’d been casually diagnosed by Scully back when she was working at Our Lady of Grace. It wasn’t her field of expertise but she was well-versed in Mulder’s behavior. After a long period of isolation, Mulder had been afraid to go outside. 

 

Fox Mulder, the man who had looked death in the eye and skirted close to disaster frequently in his prime, could not go down the path to get the mail. It had gotten so bad that even daylight triggered him into a panic. He wanted nothing to do with society after it had wronged him so. Darkness was his only solace, in more ways that one. Eventually, one day Scully came home with a packet of information and a course of behavioral treatment that she’d been recommended by the resident Psychologist on staff at the hospital. 

 

He’d accepted her observations and even agreed with her. He wasn’t physically abused as a child, but the emotional neglect from his parents and the traumatic experiences he’d had could very likely be at play. He was relieved that she didn’t push meds on him, and thankful for a partner that understood and least the textbook definition of his neurological state. 

 

Slowly and with a  _ lot  _ of regressions, Mulder learned how to cope with his trauma and how to speak about his tumultuous mental state with his partner. Scully never once chastised him for the multiple slip-ups he made. Never once. He actually remembered her tearing up once after he’d offered to accompany her to the grocery store. 

 

Granted he’d been an anxious wreck the entire time, but honestly it was such a huge accomplishment that she didn’t mention it. From the time he was accused of treason, all the way up until his 50th birthday, he was out of touch with reality- almost like Rip Van Winkle. 

 

Acclimating himself back into society was messy and awkward. People did not take to his haggard appearance and silent demeanor lightly. More than often a stray glare from a patron kept him from socializing with everyone except for Scully. The stares and whispers from people never once phased her - and if they did she never once spoke of it. His constant, his touchstone.

 

A bright light startled him and he flinched, flashing back to every encounter with bright lights and being assaulted that he had experienced. Images of being drilled into and prodded plagued his memory. Excruciating pain and sorrow flooded his senses and he tensed, fighting the urge to curl into a ball. 

 

_ The feeling of his teeth being drilled, the shards piercing the inside of his cheeks.  _

_ The feeling of his eyelids aching from being held open, tears dripping down the sides of his face and tangling in his hair.  _

_ His chapped lips breaking and bleeding every time he moved them.  _

_ The muscle spasms from being splayed over a table for days on end. To this day he could not sleep on his back.  _

_ His salty tears mixing with blood and mucus from who knows where pooling around him.  _

_ They taunted him.  _

_ They broke him.  _

_ It was over ten years later and they still owned him.  _

 

_ Breathe _

  
  


After a few moments, his breathing slowed back to normal and he used his calming techniques Scully had showed him years prior.  _ She’d be so proud _ . Being infamous for poor reactions and unnecessary bouts of rage pretty much made Mulder willing to try and curb his emotional outbursts with anything, sans medication. He’d dealt with pills and they were worse than any reality. He and Scully compromised about medicine but only after he showed her that he was making strides in identifying his environmental triggers and vulnerabilities. 

 

“One, two, three...” he counted his breaths and eventually he was able to make out that it was just a plane turning around on the runway. There was no danger here, other than himself. 

 

Boy it had gotten dark fast. How long had he been panicking?

 

“Priority Boarding has ended and now we will start boarding standard coach. Please have your passes ready and your bags collected!” the same voice came over the crackly P.A. startling Mulder.

He stood and groaned as his muscles protested his panic attack. He adjusted his v-neck and grabbed his small carry-on. He’d always packed light to accommodate Scully’s overpacking and obsession with being prepared for anything. Which, when dealing with the X-files was pretty difficult to do. Honesty, he’d packed light so minimize the literal and emotional baggage when he landed in NYC. 

 

“Told ya, thirty minutes on the dot.” the voice followed Mulder into line. “I knew we would board in thirty minutes. They always announce the boarding early to trick people into thinking they aren’t taking their sweet time clearing out the plane. This, this is why I prefer Delta.”

 

Mulder smiled silently at the lawyer and got in line. When it was his turn, he handed over his boarding pass and made the long trek to the plane. Luckily the airport was able to print his pass when he got there. He was so used to Scully just having them on her phone that he’d forgotten. Granted they robbed him $5 to do so, but that was normal for anything associated with airports. At least he wasn’t panicking. 

 

The long tunnel onto the place was familiar- reminding him of a past life. The idea was comforting.  It wasn’t that he was scared of flights per se, it was that he was making a major life decision and didn’t want to back out now.

 

_ Deep breaths, deep breaths. _

 

Once he settled into his aisle seat, he stretched his legs and moved his bag to the compartment below his seat in front of him.  When he was younger he always bought window seats. Something about watching the sky from above made him feel like there was nothing up there to be afraid of. That nothing evil came from above. Unfortunately he could not look out at the clouds and believe that any more.  

 

Slowly he tapped out a beat on his seat, using the fabric beneath his fingers to keep him tethered to the here and now. Usually when he panicked, Scully would read soothing poetry to him or even tell him about the Table of Elements.  Something about the timbre of her voice and the rise and fall of her comforting words kept him calm every time. Very few things in life made Mulder feel safe, but Dana Scully was one of them. She’d knead his back muscles until he relaxed and would run him a bath with her special essential oils. Then, like clockwork, he’d tease her for being a homeopathic pathologist. His panic attacks had lessened considerably in her care. 

But Scully wasn’t there right now, and she likely wouldn’t be again. Hell, she really hadn’t been there much as of late anyway, not that he could blame her. They’d ceased everything really. For two people who’d stayed in communication from other continents or even when he was thought to be fucking dead, they didn’t speak when in the same room. Every conversation left them both irritable. He originally combated it by clinging to her, grasping at wisps of their crumbling relationship. What could do to fix the mess he’d made? How could he apologize to her? She reacted to him by not coming home. Scully would rather work 23 hour shifts than be in the same home as as Fox Mulder - her husband. He was at a loss, he did not know of a time in his life when someone abandoned him and it was not his fault.

  
  


For years when she was teaching at Quantico he’d deal with his insomnia by getting her coffee ready and making her breakfast. Well, before his abduction of course.  It was his small way of helping her. She carried the financial burden, so he’d cook her breakfast and and pack her lunches to help. It was their routine. He tried desperately to perform the few tasks he could well and often. Dana welcomed any progress from him, so even the small things were momentous to her. They carried out this routine for a few years actually, even after Mulder was comfortable running errands. He took over the grocery shopping and the day-to-day tasks. Occasionally he got smart remarks from workers and other men about being so “domesticated” but he’d bet money that if they got to come home to a Dana Scully, they’d stop at nothing to make her happy.

  
  


Then he was abducted and Scully was pregnant. He was subjected to physical pain and Scully was forced with emotional pain. They both suffered in solitary pain, wishing for nothing but to hear from the other.

 

He’d died, and risen again. But this time Scully did not carry the same faith. Something had broken in her. She’d stood with him in her bedroom, a warm child suckling her breast, talking to him about the future they both knew would not happen. He fell in love her with again, but this time it was a package deal. She came with a mini-version of herself. An 8lb extension with Mulder’s nose but the makings of her beautiful eyes. Nothing, nothing mattered in those moments except for them and the gentle noises of their son feeding. That feeling was something Mulder was not expecting and had been chasing since. 

  
  


But, for the sake of their sanity and the sake of their safety, they fooled themselves into thinking that if Mulder disappeared, everything would be okay eventually. 

 

When he’d come back, Scully was no longer human. Not in the way he was used to, no magnetite could not fix this situation. His partner, with the fiery red hair and the piercing blue eyes, was muted-  a desaturated fraction of the person she used to be.  

  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m imagining this story in three parts. I’m aiming to finish it in roughy 25-30 chapters - my longest story to date. I will try my best to stay consistent with updates. Feel free to hit me up with any questions. I am reiterating that this will have a happy ending. Stick with me kiddos. Also, I’m so sorry for the chapter confusion! I made the mistake of misnumbering everything. But, it’s all fixed now!

He wasn’t certain why she chose teaching after the she left the Hospital, Mulder supposed she’d needed the monotony of it. The didn’t really talk much about her, but every night at dinner she’d always boast about the student’s accomplishments. She made such an impact that quite a few kept in contact with her after their rotation with her. 

They had settled into a slow routine. Mulder was thriving and Scully finally had office hours. They were home for dinner almost every night, and even spent the occasional weekend in the vineyard. The summers were spent on the beach. 

One quiet night walking along the beach in June of 2009, Mulder got down on one knee and pulled a box of out his pocket. He presented Dana with a ring, his mother’s wedding ring, and asked her to marry him. 

They married that next weekend. She wore a white sarong, he wore board shorts. The reception was 10 minutes and the only guests were Margaret Scully and Walter Skinner. 

Marriage came easy to them. It was the same as it always had been, just with an extra few ounces on Scully’s ring finger. 

One weekend after the winter break of 2011, Scully turned in her resignation and cut off all contact with anyone in the academic world. No one had time to ask why because the next day when Mulder asked if she was going to work, she suggested they pack up and move to Boston. 

Fox Mulder, excited by any impulsive change in life, was delighted to uproot them and move 500 miles away. It was foolish, but he was so excited to get out of rural Maryland, that didn’t stop to think about why she’d wanted to leave. Of course he’d forget about her feelings, that’s kind of what he’d been doing for approximately 22 years. Never once did he stop to think that Dana Scully was also pretty good at self-sabotage. 

Hindsight is 20/20 but not even bionic vision could see the Dana Scully was coming unraveled at the most gradual pace.

There wasn’t a singular moment when it happened. As time progressed, Mulder regressed. History repeated itself and their relationship just seemed to take a backseat. Honestly, that was the norm for them. During their time at the FBI, their level of intimacy stayed a well-known secret. Once they left, Scully’s health regarding William took precedence. She was incredibly fragile. Not only did she have to say goodbye to her miracle son in a traumatic way, she also had to part with every friend or relative that she’d known on the East Coast. Even if her family had been reduced greatly due to the Syndicate, Mulder saw her sliding further and further into emotional isolation every Mother’s Day or birthday that passed. 

In 2015, she was so upset on William’s birthday, that she drove eight hours straight to the Cemetery to sit at Melissa’s grave and cry. Mulder didn’t realize she’d left until one of her apprentices called him asking if Scully had turned her phone off for her vacation. After hours of exhausting every outlet he still had he realized only after looking at the calendar that today William turned 14 years old.

He’d felt so guilty. Blessed with hypervigilance in his emotions and everyone around him but fucking cursed with the inability to think about anyone but himself. Selfish but selfless. Someday he would be able to do grand things proactively instead apologetically.

Three days later she’d come home, tanned and quiet. Her normally fiery stare was defeated and desaturated. Had she slept in her car? Her hair was uncharacteristically thrown in a bun and her freckles had finally seen sunlight instead of being concealed. Honestly? She looked more beautiful in that moment, more raw and vulnerable than Mulder had seen her in ages. However, as all things must end, she soon disappeared into their spare bathroom and ran a shower to distract from her sobbing. As a token of his affection, Mulder had set some pajamas and oils outside the door and made a bed on the couch, knowing she wanted to hurt alone.

What started as an act of love turned into their new routine, Scully would shower in the guest room and Mulder slept on the couch. Whatever kept Scully happy. He was eager to please her in any way he could no matter the cost to his physical or mental health. Keeping her happy kept him happy. She jerked when his hand touched her shoulder. His voice only seemed to anger her. His presence in their home made her tense. He couldn’t win. Mulder was running out of ways to try and make himself scarce. So, he picked up the dreaded night shift at a local gym. During the day he would strength train and at night he’d punch in and run the floor until the wee hours of the morning. It was nice for a while. Everyone who visits the gym at night was either so dedicated that they didn’t give a shit about anyone else there or they were trying to sober up.

Eventually he had out-benched his PR from his 20’s and his body fat was down to 15%. He was starting to notice looks from people in public and for once he didn’t feel guilty about it because they were appreciative and not condescending like everyone in the Bureau. This was the healthiest he’d been in years, mentally and physically. 

That alleviated the tension in the house. Mulder would come home after Scully left for work and sleep for a few hours. He’d tidy the house and try not to peek inside the spare bedroom. His schedule consisted of working, working out, eating and sometimes sleeping. 

Mulder was thriving and Scully was crumbling. If she didn’t want help, he couldn’t help her. If there’s one thing Scully was known for other than her hair it was that she was stubborn to a fault.

Coexisting was natural for Mulder. Years of obsessive emotional attachments ending poorly had prepared for his. Splitting was the act of turning your intense love and devotion to someone into a pure distaste at the mere mention of their name.

But hatred was something Mulder reserved for greedy government officials. 

Not for his wife that cried loudly in the shower and pretended it never happened. Not for his soulmate - who would rather work a double overnight than be in the same home as him. 

 

It wasn’t until he’d fallen asleep alone in the house on his birthday, that he admitted that they was nothing her could do, nothing he could say to fix them. She was avoiding him, obviously. Mulder and Scully were no longer a partnership. He loved her endlessly and tirelessly .

 

He was slipping back into isolation, preparing his heart and mind to be alone again. He could feel himself slipping, his stability and foundation crumbling as he finally gave up. If he was going to be abandoned by the one person who promised to be his one-in-five-billion, than he would do it on his own terms. 

He’d lived alone for years. 

Alone.

The thought of being alone haunted him always. His paranoia was quieted by most of his lifestyle changes over the years, but the Illegitimate fears of Scully leaving or dying still stayed in the back of his psyche. 

 

His birthday passed and the holidays crept up. Margaret Scully passed away on December 15th, 2015 quietly with her daughter at her side. Mulder had waited up at home just in case his partner needed some solidarity. After 15 hours though, he knew she wasn’t coming home. Dana was probably in her basement office at the morgue, surrounded by death either way. 

That’s when Mulder made up his mind - he could not handle another solitary Christmas. They had never really kept up traditions. Their erratic schedules and Mulder’s varying degree of sanity had made it nearly impossible to keep anything consistent. But Margaret was one of the last things they shared. Over the years, the Scully matron had taken a liking to Fox, even if her daughter did not share the same sentiment. He would be sit uncomfortable on the same couch that he’d slept on back during Scully’s abduction, and they’d make small talk until Dana’s phone would ring and she would go off to a crime scene. 

So, on Christmas eve of 2016, Fox Mulder pulled out his duffel bag with the faded “FBI” on the side and began to pack. 

He didn’t have many things; a few free weights, some journals, and a computer were his prized possessions. Everything else was in storage back in D.C. or had been destroyed. Even when they’d moved to Massachusetts, Mulder had thrown away almost everything in his rat hole of a den. He had the random appliance in the kitchen or a few CD’s by the sound system, but nothing of emotional value. 

Well, weights could be replaced and would make his travelling pretty difficult so he packed them up in their box and pushed them into the closet. Maybe Scully would use them. Speaking of weights, he should probably call and quit the gym. 

He pulled a few shirts out and grabbed for some pants. The duffel bag was only meant for a few days of clothing so eventually he’d have to set up camp somewhere or find a laundromat. Honestly all of his clothes were about the same color scheme, since he was colorblind. For any odd pieces, the colors were scrawled on the tags in Dana’s pristine writing and he fought the urge to toss them all. 

He noticed his old Knicks jersey crumpled at the bottom of the drawer and thought for a moment. He’d never wear it and honestly it reminded him of better times. So, he left it there. Let her find it. Maybe she’d remember all the times she sat atop him wearing noth  
ing but as words of love tumbled out of her mouth. It probably still smelled like her. 

Maybe. 

He left his cell phone- technically still on her plan, in the middle of the bed. It had been reset and the little android logo was all that it showed. He had erased every trace of him on it. 

He left the house with no goodbyes. This was not his home. He’d slept here, eaten here, fucked here, and definitely cried here. But he held no attachment to this place. This house held nothing but bad memories. It only took two boxes to clear the rest of his stuff out - he’d drop that by his storage unit that he’d kept since his basement office was set on fire at the FBI. The old container held case files that were thought by the Bureau to be destroyed. Surely they could use some company - he’d never need the suits again. 

The walk down the driveway was solemn but freeing in a way. For him to detach from Scully was pretty hard, but she’d been shut down for years. If he told himself that leaving would increase her quality of life, then it was okay. She needed space from him, he was the problem. There is no way on Earth that Dana Scully could be at fault for any of this. 

Or at least that's what he thought.


	5. Chapter 5

“Peanuts?” 

The flight attendant was making her last round before settling down. He pointed to the familiar sunflower seeds and handed her his card out of habit. Seeing his wallet made him remember that he needed to change his bank information. They hadn’t talked finances in years and everything was pretty much on auto-pay. With Scully’s careers and his small East Coast fortune, money hadn’t really been an issue. 

The stewardess smiled at him, “Have a nice flight, Sir!”

 

The familiar crinkle of the package paired with the crunch of the seeds soothed him. The salty seeds were his first comfort as a child- an imitation of his father’s habits. Everyone always said he’d grow up to be just like his father but he’d outlived him( not initiated a scientific apocalypse) so he was safe. However, that didn’t stop him from comparing himself to his father every time he looked into a mirror. Did he look like Bill Mulder? There really was no way that he could - they weren’t related.

“This seat taken?”

Before Mulder could answer, the lawyer from the airport stepped over him and plunked himself down next to the window. 

Mulder smiled uncomfortably and silently chastised himself for not bringing something to do. Now, he’d have to listen to this fool the entire flight. Usually he slept on planes, but now that he was on a semi-regular sleep schedule he found that napping anywhere he could was something he no longer needed to do. The years of sleeping in the passenger seats and crashing at one-star motels were thankfully a part of his life that he would rather tuck away for good. 

The man offered his hand to Mulder. “Goldwater. Jerry. I don’t think I actually was able to introduce myself back there.” 

They shook and Mulder considered it. It was firm and practiced. He knew that he was a little gruff with him back in the airport, but the guy didn’t seem quite as annoying now that he wasn’t predicting their takeoff time ever five minutes. Now, that they were 39,000 feet above ground, Mulder’s shoulders relaxed and his knee stopped bouncing. 

“So, Jerry, what brings you to New York?” Mulder asked, flicking a seed into his mouth. He offered his bag to the man next to him and shook a few seeds into his palm.

“Thanks. Uh, is it bad to say nothing? I don’t really have nothing man. Like you saw back there, I ain’t doin’ so well for my first winter alone,” Jerry shrugged and turned to look out the plane window. “I don’t have any family left, and I thought I had friends. But, this supposed weekend out of town has me thinkin.”

Mulder spat the seeds into an empty cup in his chair and settled in, “What about?”

“I don’t have anyone or anything holding me back from being impulsive anymore. Like, I’m not gonna blow my savings account on a Bugatti, but there’s nothin’ keepin’ me in Boston anymore. I’ve really thought about putting my house on AirBnb and hiring a cleaner. I don’t wanna stay cooped up in the house being haunted by my ghosts. Yeah?” 

Goldwater swallowed the seeds whole and Mulder turned a lip up. Gross. 

“Childhood habit, I like the salt.”

“You’re a strange one, Jerry, but so am I.” Mulder ran a hand through his hair. “I ran out on my wife.”

Jerry’s mouth stopped chewing, eyes downturned. He nodded slowly and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

“Well...need a lawyer?” Goldwater snaked a business card out of his pocket. “I might not have a practice to go back to, but I am licensed in New York, Vermont, Massachusetts, and Maryland.”

Mulder deflected the question,“Are you Monopolizing the divorce court in all of the Colonies?” 

“Hey now, it’s a reputable business. So long as people keep getting married, I’ll still have a job. What do you do, Mulder? You look like someone who sells pharmaceuticals to hotshot Doctors.” Jerry winked, his brown eyes crinkling in the corners. 

“Hey now! I’ll have you know that I was pretty respected in my prime!” Mulder laughed at how wrong that was. No one ever respected him. Except Scully. 

“I’m wrong? Okay. So, you sold surgical equipment to hospitals? You seem the type to wear scrubs a little too tight to make a sale amirite?” Jerry ducked as a seed flew at his head and bounced off the tiny glass window behind him. .

“Do I really look like that? Geeze.” Mulder looked down at himself. Did he really look like that? He made a mental note to go clothes shopping once they landed. “Actually, I worked for the FBI.”

“No way! You’re a Fed? I woulda never guessed it.”

“Was, Jerry. I was a Fed. Past Tense. If it helps, they didn’t like me much either. I was what you’d call the ‘Black Sheep’ of the Hoover Building.”

The lawyer laughed and stood up. He shook out his rumpled suit and sat back down. “What did you do? Spill National Secrets? Overthrow the Government? Kill your partner?” 

“I exposed the truth. A truth that since has been vanquished,” Mulder said. He looked at his watch, only a half hour left in his three-hour flight. “Oh, and I didn’t kill my partner - I married her.”

 

Bright lights!

Pulsating, the beams burned into her eyes. They were so bright that Scully thought she’d never see the darkness she so feared ever again. Small pinpricks of light danced through her vision as she unfocused and tried to shut her eyes again to no avail. A stained-glass array of color mulled her consciousness. 

Why was she remembering this? Why now?

The dull buzz of a saw tickled her senses, coming closer and closer. The small sound became a deafening roar that overtook all of her thoughts. No longer did it matter that her eyes were dry and burning. The only thing she could focus on was the piercing whine of the blade coming closer and closer to her ears. 

She felt a vibration near her ear and screamed, pins and needles stabbing under her skin as she flashed back to her abduction over a decade ago. 

Scully jolted up in bed, her real-life scream pulling her out of her nightmare. Next to her pillow, her phone vibrated, the screen illuminated, telling her that it was time to wake for the day. 

Fuck.

The nightmares hadn’t been an issue for the greater side of a decade. Scully pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to tame the beginning of a migraine. She was definitely wearing glasses today. 

With quick, calculated movements, she slid off of the bed and slipped into her slippers. Normally she revelled in the texture of the hardwood floors that lined the spare bedroom. But, in the tail-end of December in Massachusetts, they were too cold to be comforting. 

The only noise in the house was the shuffling of her house shoes and Scully padded into her main bathroom. She frowned at the sight of the small room. It seemed so impersonal now, one tube of toothpaste and one towel were hung. There was no heart in this home, she realized. She hadn’t ever settled down here. This home showed nothing about her, she’d never truly lived in it. Mulder had been gone only for seven days and the changes in their home - now just her home - were still very new. The old toothbrush that needed replaced months ago, his Armani aftershave (a guilty pleasure), and his deoderant were all missing. If she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply she could still smell him in air. It was comforting for a moment, but soon after settled into grief. 

He left. 

He left her, during the day, while she was at work. He’d taken off without a single warning. 

Not that she could blame him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a bonus because y'all were so patient about the chapter mix up.

“Scully.”

“Dana, we’ve got a body. Meet me at Harrison.” a steely voice barked at her. An audible *click* on the other end made Scully a little upset; yes she was on call but did Detectives usually hang up before they got answers. 

 

She clicked her phone shut and blew a chunk of hair off of her face. Not only was she stuck in traffic, but she was stuck in traffic going the wrong way. She missed the days where she could park anywhere and drive on any road, thanks to the small sticker on her Bureau car. Granted, working for the State was much less daunting, but the Bureau had it perks at times. 

As the Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Dana Scully took her job very seriously. She’d worked both sides of a Homicide case and held an appreciation for the Boston P.D.; they had welcomed her transfer without a hitch. In fact, she’d actually been recruited for the position out of Quantico. Not often was she sought-after, not since the FBI in the early 90s. 

She’d never told Mulder when she’d gotten the emails from Boston because she honestly wasn't sure she was going to look into the position. It paid better, but her hours would change. They were doing so well when she was on a set schedule. He’d stopped working but made up for it in every other way. They’d been together so long at that point that he knew just about everything she needed. They had mastered each others body language. Money wasn’t really an issue, although it was nice. They had the Mulder Estate blood money tucked away in a high-yield savings that just accrued interest. But, even with Mulder’s savings her and her careers, they were financially comfortable. Scully mostly kept working to stay busy - a busy mind was a happy one. Her maternal instincts kept her teaching, even when it was frustrating. Why mourn the loss of a child when she saw almost 20 every rotation? 

Despite her credentials most offices saw the big X and politely declined her services. Even if it was an at-will position, she felt respected here. It was nice to be desired, sought after. She was only required to work for the Commonwealth for a year while they cycled in their candidates for her position. All Scully knew was that their previous Medical Examiner had left under circumstances seemingly unimportant undocumented. But, whoever she was, she did leave her work behind and Scully was thankful for the organization and thoroughness of the notes left behind. It made catching up on cases much easier, especially if it had been awhile since she’d practiced. Years of notes on the margins of diner napkins and the wayward scrap of knowledge on road maps were replaced with meticulous notes and color-coded filing systems. Honestly, if she’d had this luxury on the X-Files, she might have actually learned to believe a lot quicker. Even the Hospital staff had been put-off by Scully’s need for organization in the workplace. 

 

Her phone went off again and she pressed the button on the steering wheel to answer it. 

“Scully.”

“Dana, where are you? I called you almost an hour ago.” Jane Rizzoli’s Boston accent was still aggravating to the Medical Examiner. She could just imagine the lanky Detective stomping around and waving her hands around like a parade float. 

“I’m still stuck in traffic. I should call Jimmy Johns and see if they’ll bike me out of here,” Scully laughed and checked her watch again. Jane had only called her 20 minutes ago. Typical Rizzoli exaggeration. “But I think BIlly’s would refuse me service and accuse me of adultery.”

“Damn right they would. Well, at this point I might as well just have them bag the body and take it back. It looks pretty simple.” Jane trailed off and it was silent for a few awkward seconds. “Hey, Dana, I been meanin’ to ask. You doin okay? I know you took a few days off and I know you’re a private person. I mean, you’ve been here like a year and we barely know ya but yeah, you’re the only other female I see in a day and sometimes I forget how to act like a human…”

“I’m fine, Detective, I am. I appreciate the concern. I- I had a hard week last week but that week is now over. For now, I need to work. A lot. Should I just go to the morgue?” She changed the subject and tapped her fingers on the turn signal, waiting for the response. 

A muffled sigh is all that came through, “Yeah might as well. I forgot what time it was. I should have just had you go there anyway. Alright. I’ll see you there.”

The call ended and Scully sighed. She really didn’t know if she fit in here yet. She could not get a read on Detective Rizzoli. Sometimes the feisty brunette exuded confidence- an attitude that made men shrink back and women come a little closer. In fact, Scully found herself attracted to Rizzoli. Not sexually even, though that hadn’t been ruled out. No, it had just been a long time since Dana had met a women in Law Enforcement that had the shit to give right back to her coworkers. In the Bureau, the main way to get by was to close yourself off and ignore every sexist remark that floated around you. But Rizzoli did none of those things. Granted, this wasn’t the FBI and it wasn’t 1995 but still, Scully assumed that the brash Detective still heard all the things she did in the field. 

All that she knew about the Detective was what was in her personnel file - that she’d done incredibly well in her career and was a pacesetter in her field. There was mention of a few close-calls a few years back. But, Dana didn’t snoop. If it wasn’t in her file, then she would wait to be told. That’s how she felt about her own file, which Rizzoli couldn’t get to anyway - not without federal clearance. 

She wondered what the black-and-white Detective would make of her prior cases. How would she explain Tooms or the Flukeman? Hopefully she’d never find out.

Scully tapped on the steering wheel, turning the radio on. Anything to beat the honking and screaming of rush hour traffic- which she would be in for quite a bit longer. Very rarely did she listen to the radio, so all of the presets were Mulder’s. If you asked her what any of the songs were on this station, Scully would politely decline to answer. She used to call Mulder’s choice in music “Dad Rock”. He would roll his eyes and air-guitar away from wherever she stood. It was one more thing that never got old between them. 

She missed him, obviously. 

But, she wouldn’t fight for him. It was obvious why he’d left and honestly Scully knew it was her fault. She’d done exactly what he’d done. But, that’s where they differed. Whereas Mulder eventually went to the therapy to cope and try and get a handle on his health, Scully had receded further and further into her mind until she had shut out every living thing. It was her decision to leave her teaching job and she would never tell a soul why. It was only a blessing that Boston had emailed her because either way Dana Scully was getting the fuck out of the FBI and all their political bullshit. 

There was no singular reason she wanted to leave. No, that was a lie. It wasn’t one single reason but it was one single topic : Mulder. Everything came back to him. Nevermind that he ran most of the home while she worked, nevermind that he supported her in every cause she’d ever had without a doubt. He trusted her, he trusted her intuition and never once had he made her feel inadequate. Yes they’d bickered for the better side of a decade and he had the attention span of one of his fish unless it involved aliens. But, he loved her and honestly that was all she needed. 

What pissed her off the most was the Bureau and their inability to believe that Fox Mulder could become a fully functioning partner (in all forms of the word). The gossip and the watered-down conversations made their way through the groups all the way to Quantico, Scully could only imagine what the word was inside the bullpen. She couldn’t hear it anymore. How dare all of these Agents - some even too young to have met Mulder - be so incredibly cruel on his behalf. Fuck what anyone said about her, Scully didn’t give a damn what people thought. But shame on anyone who was so quick to assume that Mulder was the sum of his past actions. Why couldn’t they see that for someone who was at one point so broken that he required three years of therapy to step foot outside, going to the supermarket on a Saturday morning was astronomical?

All these questions and Scully honestly did not want answers. She missed Fox Mulder and like the FBI had done, she had hurt him to the point where he gave up. He was her soulmate, as cheesy as it sounded. But even the indulgence of listening to his music was something that she should reign in. She needed to separate her identity from his. He was not coming back, not anytime soon. 

Were they separated? Would she get the papers in the mail? That seemed a little passive-aggressive for Mulder. He was the type to drop them at her door and disappear, or email them from a temporary email with no chance to reply. She was not accustomed to being abandoned, this vulnerability was something she hadn’t felt since she’d handed William off to Monica. When he’d left in 2002 it was to protect her and William. When he’d left last week it was to protect himself - a testament to how far he’d come in therapy. He’d finally learned to stand up for himself and assert his worth; it was monumental and heartbreaking all at once. 

Finally traffic started to move and the radio changed to the raspy voice of the DJ, now Scully could tune out everything on her way back to the station.


	7. Chapter 7

When they got off the plane in New York, Mulder had no idea what to do. It wasn’t that he was lost per se - he just purposefully didn’t have a plan. Between gathering the emotional and mental courage to leave his spouse and the actual gathering of his belongings, the future wasn’t something he really thought of. He was proud that he’d remembered to call the gym and quit. 

So, he and his new travel companion, got a hotel room for a week in Long Island and gave themselves time to compress. Mulder had gotten himself a part-time janitorial gig at the L.A. Fitness down the block from the hotel with a start date of January 9th. Jerry made a few phone calls, and was able to procure himself a small piece of real estate in Queens. They’d celebrated by going to target and buying youthful graphic tees and jeans that fit a little too tight for men in their 50’s. It was refreshing to see a tag without his name on it, and not worry about whether his suit jacket matched his pants. In fact, Fox Mulder doubted that he’d ever wear a suit for work again. The times of federal employment were far, far behind him. Although he did purchase a few pairs of crew socks with little UFO’s on them, an inside joke if anything. Jerry was probably just having a mid-life crises but Mulder didn’t rag on him for it since it was probably because he didn’t have any family left. Besides a few pairs of cargo shorts were much less 

After a week of splurging on pizza and expensive mini bar craft beer, Mulder was bored. This was not what he planned when he left, even if he claimed to have no plan. His stomach was also pretty upset with him. After months of training and eating clean, seven days of greasy pizza and sticky stouts were wreaking havoc on his body. 

After some internal debate (which meant a long nap) he did some communicating with Secret Agent Craigslist and wrote down a few addresses. He printed out a small map of Long Island and mapped out the addresses. They were all within walking distance of the gym and only a few minutes by car to Jerry’s office. They hadn’t talked about what they’d do after the week at the hotel was up, but Mulder just assumed that his friend had no plans to ditch him now. 

His new smartphone buzzed in the pocket of his new jeans. Everything was new. It thrilled Mulder but a small part of him ached for his uncomfortable couch and knitted blanket Margaret Scully knitted him all the way back in Massachusetts. 

“Mulder.”

“Why don’t you ever say hello like a normal human?” Jerry’s voice blared into his phone. For a moment Mulder thought he’d left it on speakerphone. Nope, Jerry was just loud. “I already know who I’m callin’, dingus.”

“Jerry, if you knew what the terms ‘normal human’ could mean, you’d stop asking that.” Mulder rolled his eyes and rolled out of bed. 

“Oh yeah, Fed stuff. Anyways, what are you doin’ for New Years? I wanna go get ridiculously drunk before I commit myself to anyone or anything!”

“That’s tomorrow yeah? Well, I was actually looking at possibly going apartment hunting. Unless, you decided you wanted to be my platonic lifemate and make me the happiest Mulder by springing for half the rent of a two-bedroom?” Mulder knew that real estate was pricy in New York but didn’t really think ahead to balance his finances in preparation. He had enough cash for a deposit and first month’s on a studio. But, he was going two weeks without income and all of his assets were still in Scully’s name - leftover from his days of being a federal fugitive. Plus, he’d probably get lonely from time to time - maybe. 

“Save the bedroom talk Buck-o. I think we’ll be fine,” Jerry said with faux-enthusiasm. “You’re the only fucker i know in this huge ass city and honestly I’m pretty okay with that. Just text me the addresses and I’ll swing by a few if I can. I know you’re hell bent on walking but the ice on the side roads is nuts and dying in an alley seems a little morose.” They both chuckled at that. 

“I know this might be weird, but what did you bring for money? I still have a bank account but I know your shit’s with the former half. It’s not a problem, but I want to get our shit together now while we have the free time.” Jerry’s line made noise like he was rustling paper. 

“I’ve got a few grand on me. Not all in cash. I have a paycard with ridiculous fees from the gym I worked at back home. I’m waiting for the new year to pick a place to transfer it to.” Mulder said. Honestly he was avoiding it, he really didn’t give a shit about ATM fees. It was just a small but monumental step to break apart their finances. 

“Alright, that’s good. Not that I don’t trust you. But, I don’t want to sign a lease with someone I just fucking met a week ago and then get shafted. Know what I mean. Oh, hey my first interview is here gotta fly!”

Mulder locked his phone and shook his head. Jerry had already invested an insane amount of money into opening a private practice and a vehicle while Mulder was scouring Craigslist for a bike under a hundred bucks. On one hand it was cool, but on the other it was weird to see himself moving at such a slow pace - not really concerned about what happened. It almost reminded him of when he’d first tried anti-depressants. Way back in 1994, the bureau psych had diagnosed him as bipolar and threw meds at him almost immediately. Later, Scully told him that Bipolar Disorder was commonly misdiagnosed and that the SSRI’s were probably actually making him worse. Detoxing off of those was just as frightening as Hypnotic Regression Therapy, both made his brain twitch for weeks afterwards. 

Financially, renting a spot with Jerry was the smartest and safest thing to do. It was cheaper than this ridiculous hotel, and he could get some of his stuff from the storage unit back home. The hard question was, how did he pull out enough funds to live on without alerting Scully? It’s not that he wanted to do it behind her back. But he knew that if she caught on to where he was, it would eat away at her worse than if he just disappeared. She’d been with him through many a disappearance, what was to make this one any different? Honestly, it may have sounded selfish, but Mulder was enjoying being alone. Month after month of trying like hell to walk on eggshells and make himself scarce had given him a psychological cramp. The first night at the hotel he couldn’t even sleep, stretching out on his twin bed made him feel residual guilt.

 

Mulder was restless. Jerry had texting him back a thumbs-up emoji in response to his information on apartments. He had nothing to do. It was too cold and icy to go running and the hotel “gym” was an old treadmill with erratic belts that sounded like something in a Nirvana song. 

After a quick glance outside, he decided that he’d just go on a walk. Nothing strenuous, but at least stretch his legs. He’d spent years being confined to a basement at the FBI and then his den when the FBI decided he wasn’t welcomed there anymore. 

With a new coat and a stocking cap from their arduous Target shopping spree, Mulder grabbed his wallet and a hotel key, and headed out. A quick google search told him that there was a few outlet mall pretty close. He didn’t really need anything but getting lost in a crowd and a food court cinnamon pretzel sounded pretty okay right now.

 

“Ba-DUM!”

The sound of the doorbell into the bookstore startled Mulder. Instinctively he reached for his gun- which he hadn’t carried in years. Some habits were hard to break - defending yourself was one of them. 

“Welcome to the Book Rack, lemme know if you need anything down from the top shelf.”

Mulder smirked at the teen who was definitely not paying attention. She was maybe 5 foot tall on good day. Even in Scully-height heels, there way this girl could reach for almost anyone. 

He continued into the quiet store. In the age of eBooks and iPads, the older man still appreciated a good book. Something about wearing a paperback spine down to your grip was satisfying to him. The orange building at the end of the road had caught his eye and now he was glad he’d skipped the outlet malls. Back in Boston, Mulder could lose himself for hours in libraries or bookstores - depending on the day. Sometimes fiction was a good way to pass the time when non-fiction was hitting a little too close to home. 

A little kiosk with hot chocolate and coffee was set up in the back. He grabbed a Styrofoam cup and dropped the suggested donation of a dollar in the coffee tin. Slowly he walked the perimeter, the cocoa warming his chilled hands. They’d used to do this, way back when weekends were spent watching basketball and doing yoga. Before they were filled with figuring out cures for cancer and keeping their son away from syringes. 

He stopped in front of the journal section. The smell of leather and ink danced around him and sucked him in. Discarding the empty cup, Mulder trailed his warmed hands across the bound journals. Scully had always kept a Moleskine in her laptop bag; memories of ripping out pages to jot down hasty notes or a sappy poem made him smile- he still had a few of those poems creased in wallet. Small acts of love had been her forte. It always felt good to remember that there was actually love there. They hadn’t always been hostile and cold. 

Impulsively he picked up a black journal. The tag boasted handmade and cruelty-free; it was hefty, the size of the bible Scully had in her side drawer. He really needed to stop relating everything to her. With a few nods to himself, Mulder grabbed a pack of fancy pens and made his way to the counter. As soon as he got to the counter he doubled back and grabbed the other journal in the set. This one a deep aquamarine, like the floor of the ocean. 

He set his items on the counter and paid for his purchases. He declined gift wrap and thanked the employee and left. A quick scan of the area showed Mulder that there were no benches and no other stores for a while. So, he sat on the icy curb and bit open the package for the pens. He opened the black journal and scrawled a note on the first page. Then, he shut it and tucked it into the bag from the store. He repeated the process with the teal one. After he finished, Mulder realized that the chill of his wet pants was getting worse so he headed home. The walk home was quiet, the sound of the brown paper bag shuffling against denim was the soundtrack for him. He couldn’t hear the bustle of the city or the traffic around him. He had made up his mind. He knew what he would do in NYC, and maybe for the rest of his life. 

Fox Mulder, former Special Agent to the FBI, former husband to Dana Katherine Scully, former father to William, was going to write a book.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you’ve all gotten pretty used to a frequent update schedule. But, tomorrow I start back up with a full time job and two part-time jobs. So, updates will come less frequently. I won’t abandon this story but feel free to drop in and say hey either on my tumblr as kathybopeep or twitter as kathysuxx and politely remind me to get my butt in gear ;)

“Dana!” 

Scully stopped in her tracks, her fingers mere inches from the “Down” button on the elevator. Detective Rizzoli appeared beside her, looking somber. Scully noticed that along with an aura of sadness, the Detective was wringing her hands - a habit that Scully noticed she did frequently. 

“Yes, Detective Rizzoli?”

 

“How many times do I gotta tell you? Just Jane is fine. I’m not trying to strike the fear of God into you like a recruit.”

“Alright.” Scully smirked and motioned vaguely towards the basement, “Going down?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind, I’d rather hang down in the morgue today.” 

Scully nodded and hit the button. They both stood in silence and walked into the car once the doors had opened. She’d only just gotten to the morgue, thanks to traffic. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rizzoli watching her. Not in a sexual way, in the way Mulder would scan people for their behaviors and body language. 

It was nice; to be seen, to be observed. Scully used to despise attention for any reason.But, once Mulder had become engulfed in his mind he rarely looked or spoke to her. Even after he’d gotten past his trauma, the looks of adoration were simply replaced with conversational eye contact. Nothing more, nothing less. Had he fallen out of love with her; or was she simply not worth the effort? Either way, the attention right now was nice. 

“So, what brings you down to the morgue today, Detective?” 

“Dead people, usually,” Rizzoli deadpanned.

A small laugh escaped Scully, easing the tension between her and the Detective. 

Rizzoli motioned towards the morgue,“C’mon , I’ll tell you in there.”

Scully nodded swiped her badge and let them both in. It was pretty quiet today, thankfully. The week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve was always slow, as opposed to the common Holiday homicide myth. Everyone was either rushing to meet a deadline or procrastinating until the next year. Scully had let all the assistants take off to save on budget and so she could have some time to think. After years of teaching and being around hundreds of people in a day at the hospital, Scully rarely got downtime - especially being the only M.E. in the area. They had plans to acquire more, but nothing would happen until after New Years. 

“I don’t like the holidays,” Jane paced slowly around the darkened morgue, swinging her feel childlike. ”Christmas to be more exact. I hate Christmas. The Holidays they...they just don’t have the same appeal as they used to.”

“From working homicide?” Scully guessed. The holidays had always been a sore spot ever since Emily but that was not a story she wanted to volunteer today - as if any sane person would believe it anyway. It was normal for someone who saw death daily to be sensitive to times of cheer. 

“Not really,” a deep sigh punctuated Jane’s lament. “I-uh, my fiance left me a few months ago and Christmas was her favorite holiday. I’m not doing so well ‘celebrating’ alone. In fact, I fucking suck at it.”

Dana’s arms dropped from across her chest to grab Jane’s hands. They stood there for a moment, gathering their bearings. A sudden pang of Deja Vu flashed through her. 

Different person, different basement. 

“My husband left me. Last week. It’s why I was gone.” Scully explained although she knew the Detective was smart enough to make the connection. She peered up and saw Rizzoli’s brown eyes starting to water. The cracking of the tough Bostonian’s exterior was enough to make Scully swallow a sob. 

No. She could not handle this right now. She was not allowed to break at work. Dana Scully did not cry at work. She could count the number of times she’d broken down on the job on just one hand. The last time had been when she’d instructed her residents at Quantico how to acquire forensics from an infant and before that when she’d visited Mulder in the Military prison after giving Wiliam up for adoption. 

“I’m sorry, Dana. I didn’t mean to unload onto you. I just- I don’t really have anyone here to talk to. My partner died last year and the only two guys up there are my brother and Korsak, who is more like my father than a Sergeant.” 

Jane wiped under her eyes and sniffed back any other emotion. “Also if they saw me cry, I’d have tampons in every one of my desk drawers until I hit menopause.”

“Well,” Scully started, her voice thick, “I’m not quite in the right place to discuss my situation in the open, but I appreciate you confiding in me. I feel like I walked into Boston without introducing myself or making friends. That’s my fault. I was, actually I still am trying to work on that. I apologize if I’ve been impersonal or crass this past year. I’m not sure why, but it’s also a small fraction of the reason my husband left. I have a hard time opening up to anyone, and the only person who knew me completely disappeared in the wind.”

Jane moved her hands away and Scully gasped at the scars she felt as the Detective’s palms slide out of hers. What kind of scarring was that?

Rizzoli shook her head, brown curls bouncing erratically. Dana understood, that also was not a story for today. She felt better knowing that she was not the only one who did not share her pain in bulk. 

“So, since traffic kept me busy for most of this afternoon, can you tell me who I’m looking at?” Scully cleared her throat and walked towards the sink. “You said it’s pretty open and shut.” she looked over her shoulder. 

“Well, his I.D. and credit cards were in his wallet, and the gallery owner said that there had been a fight between patrons a few hours prior. I have my brother canvassing the area. Thankfully the snow hasn’t melted so maybe we can get something off the alley.” Jane looked at her phone, reading off her notes. “We’re running him through the system. It’s pretty obvious that he died from a stab wound. But, we have no murder weapon or motive really. The owner just wanted us to clean up and get out of there in time for their opening tonight.”

“Okay. Are you sticking around for the autopsy or should I just call you when I’m finished?”

Jane looked at the clock. “Dana it’s almost five, you’re almost done for the day. I think he can wait until tomorrow.” 

Scully stopped washing her hands and pondered the Detective’s words for a minute. Not much was going to happen between tonight and tomorrow. They already knew the COD and the crew was working on the details. It was strange to be able to work without the sense of urgency. Well, obviously a murder is better solved sooner than later, but cutting open a body and not knowing what to find and worrying if the FBI is going to pull the rug out from under them was different than stopping to work for the day. She nodded slowly. 

“So, Jane, “ Scully tried out the first name thing. It came pretty easily. “What kind of art is the gallery exhibiting?”

“Something anti-Capitalism, I think. That’s totally not my element, why?” Jane raised a brow. 

“We seem to have more in common than I originally thought. Would you like to go take a look at the opening?” Scully inhaled, she was not good at asking people to do things. Blame that one on codependency and the whole ‘being federal outlaws’ for a decade. Mulder usually knew what she wanted before she did. 

“Uh no,” Jane laughed and saw Dana’s face fall a little, “But there’s a good bar around the corner with fried pickles so good you’ll cry when they’re gone. Game for that?”

Scully’s face perked back up after she realized that she had not been rejected. Dana Scully, the cold-as-night Medical Examiner, had made a friend. 

“I’ll grab my coat. Text me the address? Give me an hour?” 

Jane nodded and waved as she opened the morgue door and left. Scully watched her leave and felt a little happiness permeate the blanket of grief she’d been carrying around. Maybe some time out will help her heal faster. It wasn’t much, but she had broken out of her sorrowful shell and interacted with someone, someone who didn’t look for messages in newspaper classifieds. 

She loved Fox Mulder, with all of her heart and she knew he loved her too. But, right now she needed to be the Dana Scully that she loved. She had spent too long doing what others wanted of her. Time and age had shown her many times just how precious life was. So, she decided to get well mentally and physically - she owed it to herself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone asks : no i do not ship Scully and Rizzoli lol. However they may be my new brotp. Maura doesn't show up for a while, sorry folks.

“Honey, I’m home,” Scully mumbled to herself as she opened the door. The stale silence of her home swallowed her words. She could almost hear her bed emitting a siren call, trying to entice her to it’s cold depths. Goodness she was exhausted - emotionally and physically. Suddenly that invitation out seemed like a daunting quest, especially since one hour was not nearly enough time to get ready to meet someone. But, a commitment is a commitment, even though that wasn’t exactly the theme of her life right now. So, she set her things down on the kitchen table and made her way to the bedroom. 

With haste, she changed out of her work clothes and tossed them in the hamper. Not the type to be concerned with fashion choices, Dana Scully was perplexed. Dead people really did not care which shade of scrubs she was going to wear that day. But, it had been years since she dressed up for anyone. It wasn’t even a date - she was adamant about that. It was way too soon to think about anyone being anywhere near her romantically or even just sexually. But, right now Scully needed a friend. Being that her mother (and only friend) had passed away the year prior, Scully knew it was time to try and form some sort of attachment with the people she worked with. Jane Rizzoli seemed just as jaded as she was, plus even more fed up with society. Plus it helped that she was just as sad as she was, as horrible as that sounded. 

How Jane had celebrated Christmas? Did she also take a hot bath with some muscle relaxers? Did she also stare at her barren home with no decorations or signs of life? She wouldn’t dare ask, but it was a thought. Maybe it would come up in conversation, maybe not. Either way, Scully needed someone who understood how horrible things were right now. 

She chose an outfit, mostly dark greys and black to match her mood and the horrible weather outside. Her phone alarm went off and Scully ran to the bathroom, spritzed some dry shampoo in her hair, and made her way to the door. She grabbed her keys and tucked her phone in her blazer pocket, bracing herself for the burst of Massachusetts cold.. 

On her way to her car, she checked the mailbox. The stack of mail looked like subscriptions for magazines that she’d have to cancel and credit card ads so she plunked them down in her driver’s seat and started the car. The radio station came back on and quickly changed it, looking around as if she was doing something wrong. She could not mourn Mulder right now, she only allotted herself that once in awhile. She could not overindulge, especially if she wanted to meet Jane in one piece. The world at large was not allowed the courtesy of knowing just how much she was hurting. 

Her suv backed down the drive and Scully drove to the bar that Jane had suggested. This time much faster than rush hour traffic she’d been met with before. It was early evening, but it was late to Scully. For someone who usually slept whenever she had a free moment, going out during the evening was a rarity. It felt like midnight but it was barely seven. 

She passed the crime scene, still covered in yellow tape and pulled into a parking spot. Her phone chirped - she had a message from Jane telling her that she was here. Even the idea of walking into that bar made Scully anxious. She hadn’t socialized in so long. What if this was a horrible idea? Not only would she make things awkward at work, but it wouldn’t help her meager social life. 

Scully took a deep breath and exited her car, trying her best to leave her worries back in the vehicle. She made it up the heavy wooden door, and gave it a shove. 

The raucous crowd of the bar was almost overwhelming. With a name like The Dirty Robber, Dana had expected it to be more of hole-in-the-wall dive bar, but it was much bigger than she’d anticipated. A single arm was raised down by the booths and she spotted Jane waving towards her. 

Deep breaths. 

Scully made her way over and sat down gingerly. Jane was wearing her work clothes still, and had swapped hairstyles for a messy ponytail. She looked tired and worn; Dana could relate. 

“I’m glad you came,” Jane smiled, showing off her dimples. “I was scared that our deep conversation earlier may have scared you off.”

Scully looked down and smiled, “No, it did not. I’m just a little out of practice when it comes to other people. It’s been quite a while since I’ve really spoken to anyone who isn’t dead.” 

“I don’t usually open up to people like that - I’m pretty private. I don’t mean to be, but I’ve just had the type of life that makes you scared to be vulnerable.” Jane waved to the bartender and held up the number two. 

“You like beer? I swear the only better thing than sex is fried pickles and a pitcher of blue moon.” Jane turned her attention from the bar back to Scully. 

“I haven’t had Blue Moon in ages, not since I was in D.C.,” Scully accepted the mini pitcher from the waitress with a smile. “I didn’t drink for a while, and I haven’t had the time since coming to Boston.”

“How long have you been here? Beantown is my home and I’m pretty much a tour guide with a badge and gun.”

“A year or so; I lived here for a little bit before I was the M.E.; my partner had some medical issues and I took some time off in between jobs to make sure he was okay.”Scully took a gulp of the beer. The orange on the pitcher caught her eye and she smiled. She loved the color orange, even after seeing Mulder fight for his life in prison jumpsuits. 

“It’s hard-” Jane started, “It’s really fuckin’ hard. Don’t get me wrong - I remember being single - it’s just that I’m not the type to be in a relationship all the time. I’m a loner. I always have been. But Maura, she, well she made me realize that I could be a loner in a relationship. She called me an ‘Ambivert’. My exes have all been clingy or just too needy. But Maura...well she was independent and incredibly self-sufficient. We could lay on the couch for hours, just doing our own thing. I didn’t realize that was a possibility. It was amazing and now it’s gone - she’s gone. I’m really not taking it well, if you couldn’t already tell.” The Detective looked at Scully with a downtrodden expression. 

“Yeah,” Dana’s voice cracked. “I understand. My husband is...I’m not sure how to explain him. He’s-”

“Deceptively complex?” Jane offered. 

Scully thought the phrase over for a moment.

“Actually, yes.” She chuckled, “He spent his entire life looking for answers that I’m not sure he’ll ever get. I know that he had a lot of problems growing up, but some of them have haunted him his entire life. I think that I may have started to resent them - his issues- because no matter what, I’d always be second to them. Especially with his line of work.”

“What did he do? I know you were at the FBI, you were an Instructor right, at Quantico?” 

“He was my partner,” Dana smiled waiting for Jane’s reaction. When the detective looked unphased, she added “My FBI partner.”

“OH!” Jane hollered, bits of pickles falling from her fingers as she threw her hands up.

“You didn’t! You married your partner? That’s the biggest no-no!” the Detective looked shocked. 

“No. I didn’t”

“Wait, he wasn’t your partner?” 

“No, I married him years later,” Scully laughed, her red hair falling out of it’s position tucked behind her ear. “We were partners for quite a while - almost a decade. But they shut down our division, quite a few times, and eventually I went on to teach at Quantico and Mulder stayed home to heal himself from years of being the Bureau’s whipping boy.

“So you were in the field?” Jane asked. 

“Yes, I was.”

“Homicide? Domestic Terrorism? Cyber Crimes?”

“No, not quite.”

“Well, what did you do?” Jane blew a piece of her hair out of her face, looking frustrated. 

“I was on the X-Files,” Scully braced herself for Jane’s reaction.

“The X..files? What is that? Kinda sounds like porn.”

Scully actually laughed out loud at that point. “No, uh, as much as you’d think it was porn set looking through Mulder’s desk, our department was for unsolved cases, specifically paranormal reasons.”

Jane looked confused for a moment and furrowed her brow. 

“Like, psychics and ghosts?”

Scully sighed, this is not where she wanted the conversation to go. 

“More like little green men.”

She had to give the Detective credit - she took the admission seemingly easy. Scully shrunk down when Jane gave her the once-over to see if she was joking. After a few beats, Rizzoli recovered and nodded a few times. 

“Well, now that I know you’re just as weird as me, I feel like we’re gonna be good pals.” Jane raised her pitcher for a toast. 

“To aliens and traumatic breakups!”

Scully smiled and toasted, she’d made and friend and it wasn’t so bad.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this seems slow moving, but everything happens in this story for a reason

“Mulderrrrrr!” Jerry yelled throwing his arms in the air. “Happy New Year!”

“Hey! Yeah New Year’s, right!” Mulder replied halfheartedly, brushing his peanut shells onto the floor. 

It was 8 o’clock and Jerry Goldwater was drunk, at best. If there was a level beyond frat-boy-wasted, Mulder was not familiar with it. His roommate was dancing around the bar, Bud Light in hand. It was actually kind of refreshing to see his new found friend having such a good time. The holidays were almost officially over and the dark cloud above them seemed to be going with it. Clad in a Yankees sweater and cargo shorts (yes in winter), Jerry seemed to be having way more fun than Mulder was from his vantage point in a booth.

Mulder was having fun, he really was. Eating bar peanuts and being the DD on New Year’s Eve was almost as cool as being the guy who checked for prohibited snacks in the movie theater. Everyone around him was sloppy drunk and getting to at least second base - per the long-standing Mulder baseball scale. Not that he hadn’t any offers but Cindy had given up after the second “no” and moved onto a different sucker. Too soon. He was fine where he was. The social expectations of letting loose on the turn of the year was mostly for children and college parties. 

Honestly he was having a better time than last year. He had ushered 2016 with his friend Jose Cuervo and not-quite-porn on Showtime. Scully had worked roughly 36 hours straight and had slept in her office. He’d even tried to…pass the time but all he ended up with was a killer hangover and the saddest morning boner to ever exist. That pretty much summed up his year anyway. Sad boners and constant dry-mouth. 

“Ay Foxy boyyyy!”

That was his cue to leave. Yes, he was the sober driver, but he was definitely not required to babysit his drunk roomate. They were four blocks from their new apartment and he was sure Goldwater and whoever came with him could find their way back. Plus his patience was wearing thin, especially after his first name was outed to the entire bar. He stood and set his sprite glass on the counter with a $5, waving at the crowd as he left. 

“I’m taking your car. Call me if you need a ride, or if you decide to ditch me for Barbara the barbarian, just send me a message!” Mulder shouted at his friend. He did not stick around to make sure Jerry heard him.

The crisp air bit at Mulder’s nose as his heavy boots crunched over snow on his way to the parking lot. It had been a little bit since he’d driven a car and even longer since he’d driven something smaller than an SUV. So, the sleek black Lexus with the Goldwater window decal was a vacation. Hell, even a beater would have been better than his bike in the snow. He gingerly sat in Jerry’s car, feeling like an intruder. The leather seats were slippery with the cold and thanks to technology, with a touch of a button got warmer as the seconds ticked by. For a moment, Mulder sat back and just looked to the sky. He remembered the many times he and Scully had gazed up in the endless black hole. He was always searching for something, what - he’d never know. Scully always claimed she was just enjoying the quiet but he knew better. Every time her eyes flicked upwards, they were hopeful- looking for a sign from God that this life filled with brutal murders and robbery of basic necessities was worth it. That this arduous journey was worth every tear, every pinch of an I.V. at the hospital. Was it worth every grimace when they saw a child in public? Was it worth the warm passionate touches that had somehow turned cold and uncaring. Mulder did not have the answers that Scully’s gaze asked, but he hoped with everything he had that she’d get hers in the end. 

Maybe he wasn’t supposed to ring in 2017 with any ties. Maybe it was time for him to celebrate himself and his accomplishments, not only professional. He’d already hit rock bottom, and attempted to save himself. Maybe the city was the answer. After so many years of being the secret buried in the basement, maybe he needed to be the standout that didn’t peek into the darkness. 

The engine purred to life and honestly it was sexier than all of the phone sex lines he’d dialed in his younger years. He crept out of the parking lot- still a little nervous to wreck his friend’s new ride. After a few miles, he got comfortable and started fussing with the radio. 

A slick jazz beat filled the car and Mulder cracked the window - a habit Scully always hated. Whenever he drove, the window had to be open. Whether it was the hot humid heat of San Francisco or the snow in Boston, he would set the car accordingly and and crack the window. Something about the fresh breeze helped his claustrophobia, especially in the few times that he was the passenger. Once he’d let on that it helped ease his fear of spaces, Scully had nodded knowingly and never mentioned it again. 

He stopped in front of his apartment and darted inside. Partially because he knew better to leave an expensive car running on the street, but mostly because it was getting colder as the night went on. He grabbed a brown paper bag off the counter along with a large bag of sunflower seeds. Jerry had bought him the bulk bag with the ziploc after an unfortunate incident when they were test driving the Lexus and Jerry had floored it on the interstate to check the brakes. They were still picking seeds up from various crevices in the car. 

He slipped once as he bolted from the home, almost skidding into the car. Once he was safely secured back in the vehicle, Mulder did some googling and set his phone in the mount installed on the dashboard. No need to get into a car accident trying to find out where the hell he needed to go. Once again he creeped out of his spot on the street and drove off into traffic.

After about 30 minutes of aimless driving, Mulder pulled off the highway and found the nearest 24 hour FedEx. He paid the astronomical fee to ship the bag and sat in the parking lot, wondering what he should do. It was barely 11 and he didn’t want to be on the road after midnight; he’d seen the aftermath of New Years parties all over the pavement when they’d been re-assigned back when they shut the X-Files down the first time.

Finally he decided to just go get a burger and head home; maybe he’d swing by the bar to see if Jerry was still alive on the way back. He shifted the car into drive and cruised back onto the interstate. 

Soon, after a decent experience at Five Guys which, in Mulder’s opinion should have a drive thru, the former Agent was pretty tired. Mulder pulled back onto his street and did a silent dance at the free spot in front of his apartment. Once he parallel parked, which was terrifying to begin with but in someone else’s car was a panic attack in the making, he went inside and locked up. There was a perfectly good bed, freshly purchased from Ikea, in his room along with four Betta fish. But, something about the nostalgic feeling of sleeping on a couch made him feel safe. He hadn’t done it yet- he didn’t want to explain that whole situation to his roommate, so tonight was special. Was it a compulsion? Was it toeing a line between recovery and enabling? Oh well. 

He grabbed the black journal and coordinating pen off the side table, accidentally knocking over Jerry’s old coffee mug. Muttering a few choice words, Mulder put the mug away and came back with paper towels. At least this apartment came with hardwood floors. Settling back into his makeshift bed, Mulder grabbed the journal and pulled the pen cap off with his teeth. The smell of the new pages taunted him, almost asking to be stained with the expensive ink. Slowly, he wrote out a title on the first page:

Fight the Future: Stories of the FBI’s Most Unwanted

He took a deep breath as his watched beeped on the hour. It was 2017. 

Once again the world didn’t end. 

Yeah, this was definitely better than Showtime porn. Not as good as when he ushered in the Millennium in with Scully, but this would do. 

This would do.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After about chapter 15, time will move quicker than a day-by-day account. Just a heads up. :) Pardon my excerpt from All Things. That episode is beautiful and I needed to touch on it at least once. I’m uploading this on a work computer so please let me know if any formatting is off.

 

  
  
  


_ “Time passes in moments. Moments, which rushing past, define the path of a life, just as surely as they lead towards its end. How rarely do we stop the examine that path? To see the reason why all things happen. To consider whether the path we take in life is our own making, or simply one into which we drift with eyes closed. But what if we could stop? Pause to take stock of each precious moment before it passes. Might we then see the endless forks in the road that have shaped a life, and seeing those choices choose another path?” _

 

_ Drip.  _

 

_ Drip.  _

 

_ She noticed as she looked into the mirror that the red tinge to her cheeks clashed almost intentionally with her green blouse. Her tousled hair looked uncharacteristically wayward. The loose waves, finally free from hairspray and a flat iron, framed her face in a youthful embrace. The separation and zigzag of her part reminded her of the pop albums lining the rack at Best Buy. However, she was not bronzed and glittered and photographed. No, not quite. She did look happy though, which something Scully was not used to seeing, especially after her cancer. Slowly and with a lot of soy protein, her cheeks were no longer sunken and her skin once again matched her Mac NC25.  _

 

_ Happiness looked good on Scully, she would not regret their union. Not with Mulder. No, there were very little regrets with him. Her family would write him off as a disgrace, saying he made her stray from her path as one of the top Doctors in the country. However, her path was not set in stone to their dismay. Nothing was truly fated but but she knew whatever happened that being alone would no longer suffice.  _

  
  


_ Drip.  _

_ Drip.  _

  
  
  


Scully woke to the bleating of her cell phone, thankful to escape the pain of seeing them so pure and naive in her dreams. 

 

_ If only they’d known that some of the hardest challenges they would face were ahead of them.  _

 

The darkened sky gave no indication to what time it was, so she grabbed her glasses off of the table beside her and grabbed the still-ringing device. 

 

4:10 a.m.

 

“Scully?” she croaked, her voice still coated in sleep. 

 

“Are you asking me or telling me your name? It’s Jane. I know we just parted like...5 hours ago but have you looked outside?”

 

“Jane,” Dana started, still trying to wake herself. “It’s 4 a.m., why would I have been looking outside?”

 

“Thirteen fuckin’ inches is what you should be lookin’ at. Jesus, it’s terrible out. I was just sayin’ to Bass that Lieutenant Cavanaugh called me and said that the police station is running a skeleton crew today considering it’s slow as hell this week. I know you kind of make your own schedule, so I was gonna ask if you wanted to have a movie day?” Jane was rambling. “It’s New Year’s Day and it’s gross out.”

 

“So, you called me to warn me about the snow but also to ask if I’d play hooky from work?” Scully asked. “Who’s Bass?”

 

“Pretty much. And he’s a tortoise. Don’t ask.”

 

“At 4 a.m.? I’d believe he was Jesus Christ at this hour.”

 

“Oh God. Noooo Dana I was assuming you got up awfully early to get ready and I wanted to catch you before you wasted all that time and..well…”

 

“Well what?”

 

“I didn’t realize it was so early, my bad. I don’t really sleep that much,” Jane admitted. 

 

Scully gave a breathy chuckle into the phone.”Call me at 9 and we’ll talk. I think I’m gonna sleep in.”

 

“Okay. Sorry again.”

 

With a sigh Dana ended the call. She tapped out a message to her assistants, letting them know that she’d be out of the office today. But, that if they wanted to make up the time from earlier in the week that they were welcome to work. She hit send, locked her phone, and snuggled back into her bed. She hadn’t had a chance to sleep in for ages, although it was mostly her doing. Her crew was perfectly capable of working the case from yesterday, and it felt good to be able to delegate once again.  Especially since she was barely functioning. 

 

Avoiding Mulder for at least a year had pushed her to the brink of exhaustion. 

 

It wasn’t his fault that she’d stayed away. No, that was all her. Mulder was the finest example of dedication that mankind could produce. Through autopsies and abductions, to children and cancer, Fox Mulder had not once strayed from her side. Dutiful and beautiful, that bottom lip could win any argument against the toughest of skeptics. Toss than with a slightly crooked smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and anyone who’s anyone was toast. 

 

Which is why it had thrown Scully for a loop when she realized she had pushed him over the edge, into an oblivion. 

 

She couldn’t fault him one bit. 

 

He had no idea. 

 

He had no idea that throughout all of this appointments, all of his visits, that Scully was declining. Always willing to put others ahead of herself, she’d forgotten herself while hyper focusing on Mulder. Their breakfasts became his balanced breakfast and her coffee in the car on the way to work. Their discussions about William turned into Mulder’s angry outbursts and immediate apologies while Scully let the hurt of the words exchanged eat away at her facade. 

 

She never told him. 

 

It was easier to lose herself and support him than to try and tackle why she was also crumbling. 

 

It really boiled down to one thing. 

 

Resentment. 

 

Mulder resented her for giving their son away- even after all these years. She could see it. It was obvious that he felt poorly about it; he never really outwardly blamed her. But the small micro-comments and general discourse were enough to convince her. He’d lost his entire family to the same government that employed him and many times he said William was the only great thing to come out of the ashes; a phoenix of sorts. 

 

She resented him for being away. For letting her down one last time, to chase away demons that followed him home anyway. Nights spent at home, rubbing her stomach in one of his shirts and a mug of the yorkshire tea he kept in her pantry were some of the darkest moments in her life. He came back in the knick of time - just at Mulder always does, but again he’d abandoned her. 

 

He resented her for her healthy coping mechanisms. She would write in a diary and Mulder would stand on the roof. She would clean the house to regain composure and he would cry and punch trees in the yard. Mulder would scream for 30 seconds straight, and be over it. 

 

She resented him for getting better. 

 

Not because he didn’t need her as much, or because he spent time on himself. 

 

She resented him for identifying his problems and working his ass off to rectify them. He’d thrown away his newspapers, cancelled all of this prescriptions, and even joined a gym. She’d stopped complimenting him, stopped looking at him because it was too painful to see her partner thriving in her demise. 

 

And she never told him.

 

Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder. 

 

Four words that haunted her every single day of her life. Sometimes debilitating - mostly manageable. But definitely something that needed addressed. 

 

He asked, every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. He made their bed, did the dishes, he painted the house, he even moved with her without question. Never once did he accuse her or throw a diagnosis at her - even though she knew he could tell. That was his forte. Never once did he call out her rituals or her need for control. Mulder either accommodated her, or left things for her do on her own. The dishes couldn’t be in the wrong spot if she was never home to see them. Right? His Nike’s under their coats weren’t untied if she never saw them. She couldn’t spend so long forming a reply that the conversation moved on...if she never spoke, right?

 

He’d never know she was falling if he never saw her.

 

Right?

  
  
  
  



	12. Chapter 12

Upbeat Reggaeton music spilled through from the apartment above his but Mulder didn’t really mind it. No music could be worse than the week he and Scully were in Kroner, Kansas and all the locals played was Garth Brooks as Holman Hardt made it rain. Not even the brief blues phase Skinner went through right after he’d be exonerated was that bad. Although, the mass amount of Hugh Laurie CD’s the Assistant Director had mailed him under the guise of a care package had made Mulder contemplate changing his address. 

The tempo of the music upstairs put him in a good mood. It was the first day of 2017 and goddammit he had a new slate. Granted, he’d celebrated by falling asleep on his couch at 4 a.m. after writing an outline for his manuscript. It was better that most celebrations he’d had. The idea of transcribing and publishing the very things the government had tried for so many years to extinguish had Mulder just tickled pink. Never once did Mulder consider writing a book, even after all times Scully had suggested it. Those times she wanted to do it so he’d quit leaving her and stay put somewhere but this time it was for him after he’d left her. That was the difference. 

He was doing things for himself. He washed and hung his own clothes - no silk shirts to tear at his heart. He made his own meals - no low-fat options to consider. He even did the dishes without a single care where the plates were (top left and no more than four in the dishwasher at once). It was nice. He missed her, holy shit he missed her. But a part of him was relieved because he knew that she’d needed space. She needed space to heal but she was not the type of person to tell him so. She needed to pick up the pieces of herself and put herself back together, stronger than ever.

With a few pops and groans, Mulder got off the couch and checked his phone. 

Nothing. Hopefully Jerry was okay. Granted he was a capable adult, but alcohol has no friends. 

Slowly he walked across the apartment, hissing as his feet touched the tile floor. It was freezing in his apartment. As he walked towards the thermostat, Mulder looked out the window and gasped. The streets he’d driven in just 3 hours ago, were buried in snow. The little bird outside his window measured the snow at just over ten inches. 

Well, that meant that he was staying inside all day. Cool. It had been years since he’d taken a snow day. Being unemployed and single in New York made him feel like a new man. Would he ever go back to Boston? That was undecided. 

Mulder peeked into the fridge and grabbed a few things for breakfast. He turned on the Keurig, a machine he’d loathed at first but had come to love in recent days. No wonder everyone stopped buying bagged coffee. Even if the little pods were bad for the environment, so were alien takeovers so honestly what’s a few coffee pods in a landfill?

He pulled out one of the two mugs he’d kept in the move. No matter how stained or cracked the outside was, Mulder still kept the mug Scully had brought back from her vacation in Maine. It originally had said “Coffee is the Maine Event” but since had faded to just “Coffee is”. As cheesy as it was, the mug was one of the first gifts he’d received from then-platonic partner. 

He put a pat of butter in the bottom of the mug - a trick he’d picked up from one of the trainers at his old gym - and hit brew. Then he grabbed the bag of peppers and threw them in a pan with some eggs. Snow days meant comfort food and there was no greater comfort food than a 5 egg french omelette. 

He put the lid on the pan and walked back into the living room to clean up his bedding mess. After throwing the pillow and blankets back into his room and putting the cushions back in their spots, Mulder went back into the kitchen and plated his breakfast. He settled back on the couch with his heavy plate and his coffee. He sipped the brew and nibbled at the omelette, his attention focused on the outline ahead of him. 

He’d written a makeshift table of contents. To cover his 30 or so years in the FBI, it seemed wise to group every three years in their own arc. Even though the first few parts wouldn’t be as exciting - especially since he really did not want to mention Diana Fowley - partially out respect but mostly because he didn’t want to reopen that can of worms. Also, to account for his few months of being abducted would be difficult. Maybe he could call Reyes or Doggett for help. Lord knows if he called Skinner to explain his situation he’d feel the boot in his ass from hours away. 

Mulder wrote for maybe three hours, lost to the world around him. Picking and choosing cases to talk about was rough, especially since most of the original files had been destroyed in the office fire. Granted he did have an eidetic memory, but trying to remember 30 different cases after having so much cranial trauma plus dying a few times was a bit much. 

His phone rang, breaking him out of his trance. 

“Mulder.”

“I’m just going to keep fuckin’ hanging up and re-dialing until you learn to answer the phone like a real human.”

“Ah, Jerry, my favorite friend,” Mulder deadpanned, thankful that his friend had made contact. In the short few weeks since they’d met, he’d grown quite attached to the lawyer. 

“Mulder, I’m your only friend.”

“You’ve got me there. You sound like shit dude. What happened last night?”

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you. But, ah, I might need a ride. I’m a little too far for an Uber.” 

Mulder groaned in response. 

“What? I saved your ass from a lifetime of loneliness and a really boring plane ride!”

“I’m not going to argue with a Divorce Lawyer, Jerry. Where are you?”

“Well, there’s a 99% chance that I’m in Charlestown,” Jerry admitted. 

“Rhode Island? How the hell did you get there? I left you like 12 hours ago. It’s like a four hour drive and you don’t have a car!”

“Barbara drove us. She said she was taking me to her favorite spot! I fell asleep in the car and woke up with no cash and my credit card missing!” 

“Jerry! You got robbed?” Mulder yelled, tossing his writings aside and running towards his room to change. He knocked his shin on a table and yelped. Limping, he finally made it into his room. 

“No! I don’t think she stole it. I think I gave her the cash for gas money. I’m pretty hungover but I woke up in a hotel. I can’t pronounce the fucking name but there’s a lake over here-”

“Quonochontaug?” Mulder interrupted. He knew exactly where this was going. 

“How in the fuck do you know that? Is there some FBI base here?” Jerry’s voice was muffled. “Hey my phone’s gonna die. You know where I am?”

“Winnapaug?”

“How the fuck do you know all these words. Yeah I’m in Winnipeg or whatever. Room 10D. I’m gonna sleep this hangover off.”

“I’ll be there in a few hours, Jerry. I might have to stop along the way. Have you seen this weather?.” Mulder laced up his snow boots and grabbed his coat. 

“No, I haven’t. The fucking lights hurts my eyes. I don’t care if you have to call a chopper, please come get me. I got a 8 a.m. tomorrow and I can’t miss it.”

Mulder grunted at the dial tone that appeared before he could say anything back. Not only did he not want to drive a car that was not his in the winter apocalypse out there, but driving out to Rhode Island would take him precariously close to Boston. 

It had been less than a week since he’d left in the night. Less than a week since he’d packed his things and moved his life in a storage unit. 

Could he handle it?


	13. Chapter 13

  
  


_ cw for a v. small mention of rape in passing. Mostly rizzoli talking about hoyt. Nothing graphic at all.  _

  
  
  


A sharp knock sounded throughout the quiet house. Scully looked up from her coffee and took a deep breath. She rose off the couch, opened the door, and laughed at the sight before her. There in all of her almost 6 foot glory was Jane Rizzoli bundled up like a child, bouncing on her toes and swinging a tote bag. It was strange to see her so....young. Not immature, but not the Detective Rizzoli she was used to seeing. 

 

“Can you stop staring at my ugly coat and let me in please? My body in numb in places that I’d rather not discuss.” Rizzoli huffed and sniffed. 

 

Scully smiled and stepped inside, waving the Detective into her home. She shut the door behind her and clicked the locks into place. 

 

“Cocoa?” she asked Jane. Motioning towards the empty kettle on the stove.

 

“Actually I brought some. Ma was ecstatic to hear that I was hanging out with a friend today and sent me over with snacks like I’m on a third grade girl scout trip.” Jane unzipped her puffy coat and produced a thermos. 

 

“You live with your mother?” Dana asked, not to be condescending. But, she was very curious. 

 

“No, she lives next door but it’s pretty much the same thing. Maura graciously let Ma live in her guesthouse when she left my father and she never really left. I think Maura liked the company honestly. She didn’t exactly have the most warm childhood.” Jane explained, pulling more snacks out of her tote. 

 

“I see. You talk about her positively.” Scully mentioned. 

 

“Ma?” Jane let loose a hearty chuckle. “I have to or she’d bludgeon me with a wooden spoon.”

 

“No, Maura. You talk about her like I talk about Mulder.”

 

“With respect and awe, but also with heartbreak and shame?”

 

Scully nodded in agreement, “Yes. Exactly.”

 

“Let’s sit down. I’ll tell you a quick story.” Jane motioned towards Scully’s nest on the couch. “Then you might understand a little more about our situation..”

 

Scully nodded and grabbed her mug of cocoa. They sat down on the couch and Dana noticed that Jane was wringing her hands again. She grabbed a blanket from behind the couch, Mulder’s knitted blanket that her mother had made a few Christmas’ ago, and offered it to the Detective, who wrapped it around herself like a second skin. 

 

“Have you read my file?” Jane started.

 

“I’ve read the one supplied to me when I accepted the position, but I think that was just to get myself acquainted with my new surroundings.”

 

“Okay, so you haven’t seen my case file?”

 

“No, I have not. I’m not one to snoop or pry.”

 

“I didn’t think you were, but never underestimate how low male officers will go to discredit you.” Jane sighed and added, “Also, I didn’t want to tell you a story you’d already read.”

 

Scully nodded in understanding, she’d dealt with the same thing when Mulder had disappeared and the Bureau had assigned her a new partner. 

 

“When I was first promoted to Detective, I was flabbergasted. Honestly. I worked my ass of for it but I was really young, probably too young to be promoted. But, we had a few spaces and Korsak, thought that he could take me under his wing and we could tag team crime for a while.”

 

“It surely seems that way now. I’ve seen you two in action.”

 

“It didn’t used to be. Anyways, after a year or two of cases, Korsak and I get assigned a case. Murderer  that the media called ‘The Surgeon’. Really twisted fuck. It scared the fuck out of me, but I was too bullheaded to admit that it was throwing me. We actually had to call in an FBI profiler to help us, that’s how stuck we were. 

 

“Who was it?”

 

“I don’t remember, some guy based out of Chicago. Really demanding, actually. We didn’t get along.”

 

“Oh, nevermind. Sorry to interrupt. Keep going.” Scully pulled the blankets up to her chin and focused on Jane. 

 

“Anyway so, we chase him for months. The media is all over it. I was working 20 hour days trying to catch this guy. Turns out he’d been kicked out of medical school for fondling corpses.”

 

“What school did he go to?”

 

“Emory.” 

 

Scully nodded and motioned for Jane to keep going. 

 

“So, this guy’s a sadistic fuck. I’m not sure if you ever read anything on him. But, he was the worst of the worst. He kidnaps this couple, rapes the wife while making the husband watch and then kills him. The current case had the wife locked in a basement. Me, being the immature Detective that I was, took his bait and ran down to the cellar to try and save this woman. Korsak was not far behind me, but it was overcast and his knees were bad. I decided that I didn’t need to wait and I charged right into The Surgeon’s trap.”

 

By this time Scully had a hand over her mouth, scared of what the rest of the story entailed. Serial murderers always bothered her, but someone with an education so similar to hers made her squamish. It almost reminder her of Donnie Pfaster, who was someone she’d rather forget. 

 

“He was hiding; hit me with a 2x4 across the back of the head. Subdural Hematoma and a fractured skull.”

 

Scully gasped. Jane shook her head. 

 

“I flipped myself over somehow, probably adrenaline, and was about to grab my weapon but the motherfucker put a scalpel through both of my hands, pinning me to the floor. Korsak came in and shot the fucker. I don’t really remember a lot after than but even now, more than a decade later and I still can’t be pinned down during sex and I can’t close my hands in the winter,” Jane explained, showing Scully her scars. Scully touched them softly, a deep respect growing for the woman in front of her.

 

“My original point was, Maura wasn’t around for that. She came to BPD a few years later. It was nice, someone who didn’t know me for my traumas. She never thought of me as damaged, and never once gave me shit for being leery of scalpels. Even in the years we were just friends, all she did was give me hand massages and make sure I had Tiger Balm in my desk at work.”

 

“She sounds lovely,” Scully offered. “I understand the importance of being treated as a capable human. I also know what it’s like to lose yourself to your trauma.”

 

“You do?  Because of Hoyt, I never stopped trying to being the best. I forget everyone and everything around me when I’m on a case. It’s ridiculous, but I’m scared to let my guard down again. That’s why she left. She got a fuckin’ master’s in forensic science and forensic pathology and I treated her like an annoying dog.” 

 

“That sounds very similar to the fall of my marriage,” Scully admitted, wringing her hands.

 

“It does?”

 

“I had cancer,” Scully started. “Actually if you want to be more precise, I was  _ given _ cancer, stemming from an abduction years prior. It metastasized very quickly. What started as nosebleeds in April turned into chemo in June and praying for death in July. I was so sick, I truly didn’t want to keep living. I wrote it all down in a journal - a long-winded goodbye to Mulder. I have it somewhere in storage.”

 

“Dana...I….given cancer? Abuductions?”

 

Scully laughed at that. 

 

“Yes, given. It’s a very long and confusing story but I was given cancer because I defied the government. The cancer and my abduction were both initiated by the government and they denied every bit of it. I decided after one night that I was going to fight against what was given to me. I returned to work and eventually we found a cure for my cancer.”

 

“You cured cancer?” Jane looked confused. 

 

“Not cancer as a whole; my cancer was synthetic. I’m still considered in remission but it’s very unlikely that it will reemerge. Trust me, you don’t really want to know the details.”

 

“I think you’re right,” Jane said, sipping her cocoa. “What did Mulder do?”

 

“He asked how I was feeling a little more than usual and he started this habit of touching my arm a lot; under my sleeve, so he could feel my pulse. At the time I found it incredibly annoying, but now I miss the contact.” Dana admitted looking around the living room. She nodded when she saw what she was looking for. She unraveled her blanket cocoon and walked to the bookcase. Most of the tomes were old textbooks sans a few photo albums. She grabbed one and made her way back to the couch.

 

“When Mulder and I got married, our old boss Walter Skinner thought it was be a funny gag gift to stick all the photos the FBI had of us, usually stored in a file against us, in an album. Mulder and I laughed for three days straight. They had someone tailing us for years - pretty much since the beginning. It’s really not funny until you realize that by monitoring us at all times, they really were just chronicling our lives.”

 

Jane laughed quietly, “It’s like they set you up to fail but actually just documented your history. You guys must have been doing important work.”

 

“We were. They took almost all of our families and even children.” Scully did not elaborate but flipped to about halfway in the book and trailed her finger until she found the photo of her and Mulder embracing in the hospital hallway. 

 

She showed Jane and the Detective’s gaze became watery. 

 

“I was a hair’s breadth from death, but that was probably the moment that I really let myself fall in love with him,” Dana admitted, her voice shaky. The memories were no longer fresh, but the ache in her heart at her small frame pressed against his was throbbing. 

 

“You look so small.”

 

“I was 95 pounds, I was small. Poor Mulder had to carry me back to my bed.”

 

Scully flipped towards the front of the book, she lovingly traced her hands over the photos. Jane leaned closer to see and Dana showed her the pages.

 

“Your pantsuits are sexy, I’m digging the shoulder pads.”

 

“This photo is from one of our first cases together in Bellefleur, Oregon. We look so young. We had no idea what that town would do to us.”

 

“What happened there?”

 

“Lots of things really. But the worst was Mulder getting abducted there for months and being returned near death.”

 

“Like, alien abducted?” 

 

“At this point in time, I can likely say yes. For a long time our government was working so closely with them that it really could have been either party. However, when Mulder was returned in his state, I almost wonder what kind of human could have done that to him.”

 

Dana’s voice faltered a little bit, “What kind of human would abduct a man eight hours before he was to learn that he was going to be a father. I faced almost an entire pregnancy alone, and it was the hardest thing I’ve done. I even buried Mulder at 8 months pregnant. He almost never met his son.”

 

“You had a son?” 

 

“Not for long.”

 

Tears pooled in Jane’s eyes.

 

“He died?”

 

“No, he was in so much danger from everyone that I couldn’t deal with it. So many people wanted him dead. So, I gave him up for adoption after 8 months. I have missed every year of his life, and I only hope he doesn’t hate me for it.” Scully’s lips trembled as she released her tears. “I miss him so much and I wonder everyday if Mulder hates me for giving him away.

 

“Well,” Jane sniffed and shook her head. “I think we’ve had quite a chat. How about a movie? You pick.”

 

Scully closed the photo album and walked back to the bookshelf. As she walked back she stopped in front of the DVD rack she had. After a moment of looking, she spotted a good movie and picked it up. 

 

“Have you ever seen Steel Magnolias?” 

 

Jane whined and curled a lip.“You wouldn’t. You’re supposed to be cool!”

 

“Get cozy Rizzoli, I’ll grab the remote.”

 

“You’re no better than Maura. Ugh.”

  
  



	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things may seem slow now, but they will speed up very quickly :)

Mulder groaned as he watched the car in front of him slide onto the side of the road. The interstate wasn’t horrible - not like some of the rural roads in the boonies of Massachusetts but still pretty slippery. It was still snowing although not as much. Regardless, the streets and side roads were dangerous and contrary to popular belief, Mulder was not a fan of danger these days. 

An errant clump of snow hit the windshield with a “Thwap!” and made the road ahead a little blurry. Jerry owed him big - bigger than any bag of sunflower seeds. Maybe he’d get them baseball tickets in the spring or something. He’d already been driving for a good 90 minutes with no real holdups other than the anticipated delays in traffic so Mulder wasn’t too upset. 

The radio station went to commercial and out of habit, he pressed the next number in the presets. He’d been in New York a week and hadn’t taken the time to memorize any of the stations. 

Somber pop music filled the car and Mulder tapped out a beat on the steering wheel.

Do you know what it’s like to kill yourself with bad habits?

Like hiding in the basement and not eating for a few days? Or, like being so scared to check the mail that he fainted in a panic?

Yes. 

Yes, he did know. 

New York City, please go easy on me tonight. 

Well, it seemed to be treating Mulder well so far. New York had been kind to him and for that Mulder was grateful. It was easy to get lose in the din of people and jungle of traffic. 

The music was interrupted by a phone call. Deft hands smoothed over the steering wheel and answered with the button on the wheel. 

“Mulder.”

“You still answer your phone that way? Jesus Mulder, I figured you’d drop it after a while.”

“You can take the man out of the Bureau, Walter. But you’ll never take the Bureau out of the man.”

“I guess so, because apparently after all these years you still have your head up your goddamn ass!” Skinner’s scathing tone was familiar. 

Mulder exhaled slowly into the speaker. He really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. 

“I’m unsure of the context of your phone call, Sir.”

“Mulder, where the hell are you?”

“I’m not in Boston, if that’s what you want to know.”

“I know that. Actually, I’m calling because when I called what I thought was your phone number, I was kindly informed that you’d disappeared off the face of the earth and abandoned Scully.”

“It’s complicated, Sir. It’s a long story and I don’t really feel like telling it you while I drive through the apocalypse outside.”

“Well, what I have to tell you isn’t something I want to talk over the phone about either. When can we meet?”

“I’m on my way out to Rhode Island right now, but I’m free after that. Is it time sensitive?” Mulder asked, a familiar dread spreading through his body.

“Nt really,” Skinner said. “It’s not time sensitive. Call me in the next few days and I’ll meet up with you.”

“I can do that. Oh, and Sir?”

“Yes. Mulder?”

“How the hell did you get this number?”

“You got sloppy, Agent. You registered with a major carrier and it only took a few minutes to find your number and area.”

Mulder let out a breathy chuckle, “You’ve got me there. Please don’t share any of that information okay Skinman? I’m laying low for a good reason.”

“If there’s one thing that I’ve ever learned from you, it’s that you usually have a reason for the things you do. I’ll expect your call.”

The line disconnected and a different pop song filtered through the speakers. The conversation with Skinner had thrown Mulder for a loop. He hadn’t really spoken to his former boss in a few years. Add that with the fact that he was only a half hour outside of Boston and Mulder was a nervous wreck. 

When he’d been exonerated from the FBI and things were good, him and Scully would go on drives together. There wasn’t really a destination and no matter where they ended up, the night always ended with a sundae from Sonic and sticky kisses at stoplights.

The exit for Boston came into view and Mulder held his breath as he drove past it. The temptation to fall back in Scully’s arms was there, no doubt about it. But his pride and self worth were more important right now. Now that the signs were fading into the rearview mirror, his anxiety was more manageable. 

The roads ahead looked better now that the sun was overhead. Hopefully they’d get back before it got dark and all of this froze.

After another hour passed, Mulder started to see the pastel homes and small square hotels that he remembered from his childhood. He had plenty of good memories here, most of them with Samantha. Of course, there were a few bad things that had happened here. But, the sound of the Lake and his little sister screaming in delight were the only things he’d focus on. 

Some memories were too painful. 

White dresses with matching white painted toenails. A pink bouquet to match the pink tint to Scully’s cheeks as stumbled over her vows. The waves crashing only feet away as tears fell all around them. Wind blowing just enough to peek at Scully’s thighs and carry her hair like a siren. The warmth of the sun accompanied by Maggie Scully’s blessings.

Promises, hugs, and rings were exchanged. A few bottles of champagne consumed. 

No darkness. 

No, that would not come until later. 

How stark of a difference it was, parking a fancy car in the snow covered parking lot when only eight years ago he was whisked away in a limo by Assistant Director Skinner clad in a driver’s suit. Oh, what terrible things had transpired. Only eight years ago, he held Scully all night and whispered promises of their future into her soft hair. Now, he held snow in his hands and didn’t flinch when they started to burn. 

How had he gotten here? 

What path had he taken to be so strayed from the only one he’d promised to cherish until death. Which death? The one where he’d been tortured for months? Or the slow extinguish of his life that started the moment Dana Scully stepped into his basement office. 

Either way this is where he was, and this is where he’d stay. 

After a not-so-glamorous check out and a quick break for Jerry to puke on the road. Goldwater and Mulder were back in action- kind of. That meant that Jerry was asleep in the backseat with a plastic bag for good measure while Mulder drove home at a solid 60 mph. No need to jostle the backseat any more than a car trip would. 

They’d drove in silence; the journey back seemed to pass much quicker this time, and before he got too bored, Mulder was pulling onto their street. 

“Only took 8 hours total, not bad. You really need to get this car detailed though, Jerry. It smells disgusting.”

Jerry replied with a haphazard burp and a middle finger in the air. Mulder had been in the lawyers shoes a few times, so he’d lay off the teasing. 

He helped his roommate into the apartment and winced when he heard the bathroom door slam shut. It was obvious that he’d have the rest of the apartment to himself all day. 

 

Jerry’s retching got louder and Mulder tried ignore his straining bladder by tidying up his breakfast mess from earlier. After that he pulled out some leftover chili to reheat for dinner. 

As he assembled his dinner, he thought back to his conversation with Skinner earlier. What did he need that was time sensitive? Better yet, why did Scully still keep his phone on? Did she expect him to call it?

His phone vibrated on the counter and Mulder grabbed the device and read the message on the screen. 

Change of plans. Can’t meet. Watch ESPN on March 4th. 6 p.m. You’ll understand when you see it. 

The cryptic message from Skinner was a surprise. Normally the Assistant Director avoided texts and emails, an old habit from the 90s when they couldn’t put anything on paper. 

He tried to text back and got no response. Part of him wanted to fly to D.C. and see what this was about, but the greater half of him knew to trust his former boss and wait for whatever was supposed to happen.


	15. Chapter 15

Dana Scully was pooped. Not tired like when she woke early to run before work. No, this was more of a living-off-of the caesar wraps and clif bars from the cafe upstairs for the past three days exhausted. 

 

Not only had she been working for 14 hours straight due to a large-scale investigation, she also had to deal with four new autopsies, three of which she needed to do due to the insistence of the Mayor. Normally, she wasn’t given orders as such. But, after receiving a frantic phone call at 3 in the morning, Scully knew she’d be working for quite a while. 

 

A quick rap on her desk made her jump. She looked up to see a frazzled Jane Rizzoli. Her normally wild hair was crammed into a messy bun, and her warm eyes looked tired. Not even tired, Jane looked exhausted. Scully did not miss her days in the field, especially the days that turned into weeks on the same cases. 

 

“Thirty four,” Jane started. “Thirty four bodies this guy’s admitted to. We are going to be swamped. I think he’s lying for attention. I don’t even think he murdered the guy on your table, but he’s apparently giving all the details to Korsak.”

 

“Why’s he giving them to Vince, isn’t this your case?” Scully made a note to inform the crew that the body count had risen exponentially. 

 

“He  _ requested  _ a male. Real misogynist that one. Motherfucker asked if the blood under my nails turned my girlfriend off.” 

 

Dana curled a lip, she hadn’t heard that one before. Many a joke about being too short to shoot or a snide comment about lipstick, but never that one. Probably because she worked with Mulder. The situation would’ve probably been different if she’d been partnered with Reyes. 

 

“Well that’s disgusting.” Scully said.

 

“Pretty much. I should be going home, but I’m too damn tired to drive. Can I crash here?” Jane motioned to the couch in the corner with a tired hand. Before Dana could answer, the Detective nodded and was halfway there. 

 

“Of course. Will my typing bother you? I’m just transcribing my autopsy notes from this morning.” Scully asked. 

 

“No, actually it will probably help me sleep. I used to sleep in this office when Maura did overnights. I think I’ve probably spent a cumulative year in here. In fact, that tear under the throw pillow is from the time i got startled by an alarm and scraped my holster against it. Maura lectured me on the cost of leather for days afterwards.”

 

Scully smiled and watched as the detective curled into the couch, too tall to actually fit. She could imagine Jane sleeping here all the time, not willing to leave in case something happened. From the information she had so far, the Rizzolis seemed like a motivated but kind bunch - the people who always had a crowd over for Sunday Dinners because no one was allowed to eat alone.  

 

After an hour or so passed, Scully heard a light knock on the door and saw Korsak looking just as frazzled as Jane had. He looked around the office and saw his target. With a small nod and a nondescript hand motion he whispered into the room. 

 

“Can you tell Jane that me and Frankie are heading up north to follow some of the leads we got today? She needs the sleep and I don’t think she’s gonna wanna sit in my car for three hours. Dog allergies and all.”

 

“She’s gonna be furious.” Scully whispered back harshly. She could only imagine how upset the Detective would be, knowing that everyone else was out in the field. Dana knew Jane did not like to be left out of anything - especially on her own case.

 

“Yeah, but she’ll be furious three hours away from me. She’s been here for 40 of the past 48 hours and she gets downright mean after three days. Believe me, I’ve been the brunt of so many rants I’ve lost count.”

 

“I can only imagine. When will you be back?”

 

“In about 8 hours I’m guessin’. If Angela asks where I’m at, tell her I’m out on a case.” Korsak handed over a stack of mail. “Oh, and your box in the mailroom was full so I figured I’d bring it down.”

 

Normally all she received at work was certificates and the occasional returned case file that had been borrowed. Maybe she’d neglected it longer than she’d meant to. Thinking it over, it had been a couple of weeks since she’d checked. Life had simply gotten away from her. 

 

“Who’s Angela?”

 

“Oh, Jane’s mom. Sorry! She runs the cafe upstairs.” Korsak pointed upstairs. “Also, we’re kind of a thing but that’s kind of low-key.”

 

Scully nodded, rose, and collected her mail. Depositing it on the desk, she looked at Jane once again and back to Korsak. 

 

“If I may ask, and I only ask out of concern, does anyone know where Maura went? In case of emergency or something?” 

 

Korsak looked her over for a moment. Scully was not uncomfortable - he was checking to see her intentions. For how close him and Jane were, it was expected. 

 

“Ang has a key to her home but I can’t tell anyone where.” Korsak patted his pocket. “She still loves her but she just couldn’t stand being second to the job. Hey, I gotta run. Have a good night!”

 

“Have a -” Scully’s sentence tapered off as Korsak scuttled off towards the door. 

 

She sat back down in her desk chair and slipped her shoes off. The snoring figure on the couch wouldn’t mind her slip in professionalism in lieu of comfort. Scully licked her finger and sorted through the envelopes. A pile for the shredder had begun along with one for framing and another for things that needed to be re-filed away. She got to the bottom and squeezed the bubble mailer. She checked the recipients name and found something strange. 

 

 

The package had come from her home address. However, she’d never sent a package to herself.

 

Mulder? It had to be. No one else really knew where they lived. 

 

Blood rushed through body and pounded in her ears as her finger slipped against the slick plastic. With haste she tore the tape off the end and pulled out the contents. A deep plum leather book tumbled out, along with a set of two ink pens. Her finger felt over the journal, cool from being in the air conditioned mail room. With trembling hands she cracked the journal open, the sound of the spine cracking made her wonder if anyone had ever opened this before. She flipped to the front page and gasped. 

 

_ “The heart has its reasons, which reason does not know.” _

 

 

  * __Pascal__



 

 

The errant angles and strokes of Mulder’s handwriting scratched the paper as well as her heart. How she yearned to see him. To kiss him. To even make eye contact. It was too much. The black ink stained on the ivory pages was an image she’d never forget. Errant tears threatened to fall as her lips shook. The effort to not sob out loud was draining. 

 

Did he know?

 

Did he really know her that well?

 

Did Mulder know that she’d stopped writing?

 

She’d ceased journaling when they’d moved to Boston. Deep down, Dana knew that articulating her thoughts and feelings helped to sort them out. But, in a deft act of self-sabotage, she’d ceased communication with everyone- including herself. If she could not bring the words into the world, she did not have to acknowledge them. 

 

He had to have known. Mulder was brilliant when it came to human nature. For someone who was invalidated by society at every turn, it was miraculous that he even cared about humanity. 

 

Scully uncapped the pen, marveling at sharp tip and transparent ink cartridge it held and pressed it into the paper.  Her hands shook with every loop and dot. After a few emotional moments, she sat back in her chair, admiring her work.

 

Well, it wasn’t much but it was a start. If she wanted to get better, self care was mandatory. Even if she was on call 24/7 for the next three days, she deserved a break like everyone else. Dana set the book down on her desk and stared. Maybe this was the start of something beautiful. 

 

_ Because of the shame I associate with vulnerability _

_ I am numbing myself completely _

_ Can you hear me right now? _


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get to meet Maura in this chapter! Feedback is always welcomed!

_ Thank you for calling Ava’s Flower Shop, where your first delivery is 25% off. This is Willow. What cheer can I bring you and yours today? _

 

_ Yes, I need to place an order for delivery.  _

 

_ Yes! There’s a $5 delivery charge for out-of-city or the Boston area is free. Either way we guarantee it within four hours. Do you have an account? _

 

_ Yes, I do. Is there a way to change the delivery address for my autoship?  _

 

_ Of course. Is this change going to be permanent? _

 

_ Yes.  _

 

_ Alright, do you know your account number? _

 

_ 1013 _

 

_ Okay, Mr. Mulder. You want to change it from ‘Home’ to what? _

 

_ Boston Police Department, Attention: Morgue. No return address on the card though. Just a blank card with an M will work. Just a single pink rose.  _

 

_ I’ll have it done by 2. Do you want a receipt?  _

 

_ No, thank you. Have a good day. _

 

 

“Hey, Mulder!” a voice called from the other side of the empty gym

 

“What’s wrong Jerry? Did you pull a muscle showing off for yourself in the mirror again?”

 

“No, asshole. I was just gonna ask you why you only go to the gym at night? It’s 11 on a Thursday night! Plus, you work here all day. Do you ever go home?” the out-of-breath lawyer hobbled across the gym to where Mulder was working out. 

 

He chuckled. It was such a stark difference to when he would sit in the basement office, watching old videos of his sister or frantically searching for Scully depending on the year. Sometimes he would do both and just didn’t sleep or eat for a week. 

 

“It’s quiet here. I don’t like being watched. When I’m working, most people don’t even look my way. But, when I come here during the day, people stare.” Mulder dropped his free weights and shook his arms out. 

 

“Because of your dashing good looks?” 

 

“Because that’s just what people do. I didn’t immediately introduce myself to anyone in this huge city. I don’t talk to my coworkers, I don’t talk to the patrons. I just unclog toilets and keep to myself. They stare because they don’t know me, and that’s unsettling to them.”

 

Jerry gave Mulder a side-eye and sat down on the weight bench. 

 

“How do you know this? About them I mean. If they don’t know you, then how do you know them?” 

 

“I’m a Behavioral Psychologist, Jerry. The beginning of my federal career was dedicated to Violent Crimes and I studied at Oxford for it. It’s my roots, my foundation. Learning how minds and psyche’s work, it really makes people fairly predictable. We respond to stimuli and environment, just like insects.”

 

“Uh huh, okay. Well, this is a little too deep for a gym conversation. You ready for a cool-down?”

 

Mulder shook his head, “You go, I’ll be here a little longer. I can walk, it’s not too cold. Much better than that fucking blizzard on New Years.”

 

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I still can’t remember where my credit cards went.” 

 

Jerry grabbed his stuff and jogged over to the men’s locker room. Mulder turned back to the full length mirror and walked towards the weight bench his roommate had just occupied. With skilled hands, he loaded the bar with weights and clamped them down at the end. He inhaled and pulled the heavy bar onto the mat and waited a few minutes. Yes, he was fit but he still needed a breather after lifting the 300lb bar. 

 

After a minute, Mulder stepped under the bar and corkscrewed his feet into place. He squatted down and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked different. His jaw was more chiseled, his eyes softer. Either hand went on the bar, on the outside of his shins. With a grunt he pulled up, flexing his shoulders and exhaling as he came back down. 

 

One, two, three. 

 

_ Happy Birthday to you… _

 

Four, five, six.

 

_ Happy Birthday to you… _

 

Seven, eight, nine…

 

_ Happy Birthday Dear Dana. _

 

Ten. 

 

_ Happy Birthday to you.  _

 

 

He’d wanted to come home; two months without Scully was agony. He still looked for her when he heard a door open. Once, when shopping, he’d found a shirt with grey aliens on it and he’d called for her, amazed that someone had finally colored the reticulans correctly. When he realized that he was alone in a Target, he’d gone home and cried _.  _

 

Sometimes he would go to Starbucks and order for two. The baristas would coo at him, telling him that he was so caring to get his wife coffee and how he was nicer than boys their age. He’d wink and wait until he turned the corner before dumping the beverage in a garbage or giving it to Paul, the homeless man who asked for change every morning, 

 

After a few more sets of deadlifts his body hummed. It was such a different feeling, being exerted from healthy exercise instead of chasing down perps for miles on end and fearing for your life every time you entered a building. 

 

He took a quick shower and walked back out into the locker room. Quickly he dressed and used the hand dryer to make sure his hair was not wet and wouldn’t freeze in the winter night. The walk home was short, but sometimes Mulder took detours. In the age of GPSs and mapquest, there was still a quiet thrill of searching on a map or using signs to direct your way. 

 

Sometimes, like he would tonight, he’d go to the Maid Rite diner a few blocks over. It was the only place that had fresh coffee and any time of night and the loose meat sandwiches from the midwest were the perfect combination of greasy and messy. Add some mustard and a pickle, and Mulder was in heaven. 

 

The bell clinked as he entered the 50’s style diner. There were a few patrons sipping coffee, but for a Thursday night it wasn’t too busy. Mulder decided to sit at the counter tonight, it was easier on his body to get off of a stool than out of the deep-seated booths. He set his gym bag by his feet and smiled at Tara, the regular third-shift waitress. She had long dishwater blonde hair and a wisp of a southern accent. Most nights, he’d tell her some of the fun cases he’d had and she’d smile with charming dimples and ask intellectual questions no expected from a waitress. They talked about their ex wives and she’d tell him about the antics her cat had gotten into. They knew a lot about each other, but they’d never socialized outside of the diner. Every time he came in, the conversation just picked up from where they’d left off. 

 

“Black coffee and a Maid Rite no Ketchup?” She asked. He’d gotten the same thing so often that she’d abandoned her memo pad long ago. 

 

“How about an iced tea? I’m feeling pretty nostalgic tonight.”

 

“They make good tea in Boston? I thought we threw it all into the harbor a few hundred years ago.” she commented with a wink. Quickly she turned around and grabbed a cup and produced the fountain tea in a matter of seconds. 

 

Mulder chuckled. No one but him and Scully would remember the numerous stakeouts filled with deli sandwiches and canned tea. 

 

“You’re from Boston?” a voice asked further down the bar. 

 

Mulder waved a hand of thanks when Tara set his food down and looked down and the source of the voice. A woman, dressed in business casual, was nursing a hot coffee and half a slice of apple pie. She looked at him curiously, as if she was trying to read him.

 

“I was. Wasn’t there long. But, I was there long enough. Why, you from there?”

 

Mulder studied the woman. She looked professional - maybe a lawyer? Although she was beautiful by society’s standards, she also looked to be kind. Too kind for legal work. 

 

“I am. In the grand scheme of things, I wasn’t there long either. When were you there? I’m surprised we’ve never met.” the woman slid her plate down a few spots and took up residence a stool away from Mulder. “It’s a big city but I knew a lot of families there.”

 

“I was more of a homebody. My wife...ex wife? Sorry, I’m not sure. We’re separated? Anyway, she works for the Commonwealth.” Mulder said. He was surprised at how much easier it was getting to talk about Scully, even if he stumbled over what their relationship label was. Ex-wife was too cold, but wife was too warm. Partner was too professional and Baby Mama (as described by Jerry) was out of the question. 

 

“I used to work for them too. Medical field. Boston was my home. New York is where I stay now but my heart will always be in Boston.” 

 

He smiled and offered his hand, the sentiment was relatable, “Fox. Fox Mulder. Please just call me Mulder. I’m a former federal agent who’s having a midlife crisis and writing a book about it. What did you do in Boston?”

 

“Mulder,” she seemed to test the name. “Dr. Maura Isles, former Chief Medical Examiner for Boston.” she offered, stretching out her hand.  “Now, I’m just a single dog mom, living my life in the outskirts of New York”

 

He shook hands with her, mulling over the information she’d just provided.  

 

“I think that even though I don’t believe in fate, we were supposed to meet today.”

 

“Why do you think that?” Maura asked, her blonde hair shifted as she tilted her head. “Most religions proclaim fate as part of a divine plan that we need to take upon faith, without questioning the underlying reasons. Modern brain scans show that unconscious activity occurs a few seconds before the conscious activity arises in other areas of the brain. It appears that the subconscious mind decides first, even when we think we’re making a conscious choice.”

 

There was an awkward pause as Mulder took in the information she’d unloaded onto him. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Maura blushed. “I...do that sometimes.”

 

Mulder laughed, Scully would love this lady. 

 

“Do you know a Dr. Dana Scully, M.D.?”

 

“Yes, sort of. She is filling my spot until I come back to Boston or write my resignation.?” Dr. Isles’s eyes were wide. “How do you know her? I’ve never met her, but my Mother-in-Law says I would love her.

 

“She just to happens to be the wife I’m separated from.” Mulder laughed and took a bite of his sandwich. “I agree, I think you’d get along pretty well.”

 

“Oh, that’s interesting. Is that what brings you to the city?”

 

“Yeah, I took a flight and made friends with a guy next to me - now we’re roommates. Call it a fifty-something male crisis.”

 

“I’m not sure if the same applies to me, but last year I left my fiance who is a Detective at BPD and I’ve been out here since. I haven’t made any friends yet though. I’m not exactly everyone’s cup of tea.” Maura admitted, her eyes downcast. She swirled a spoon through the fresh coffee that appeared in front of her and clinked it against the porcelain cup.

 

Mulder nodded in solidarity, “I can relate. I used to work in the basement of the Hoover Building. Let’s just say they were glad when I decided that I no longer wanted to pursue my field.”

 

“I’m...awkward. I didn’t exactly have a warm childhood. I come off as cold. I’ve healed a lot since I first came to Boston - my ex and her family were very gracious in taking me in. My parents have since passed, but Jane’s mother Angela still sends me letters.” Mulder saw a warm smile spread on Maura’s face at the memory. 

 

“Do they know where you are?” Mulder question, seeking advice in a way. Maybe he’d learn a little from the stranger at the diner. 

 

“Angela does only because I gave her a key to my home and an address in case anything happened to Jane.”

 

“Smart. I kind of ghosted Scully. I just couldn’t handle it anymore. She was distractive, uncaring. So unlike the woman I fell in love with. I think she just forgot how to function; she needed time to learn to love herself again. We’ve gone through so much, that I think she avoided processing any of her trauma by focusing on me and it just caught up with her.”

 

“That’s painfully familiar,” Maura started. She turned towards Mulder and continued her story. “I thought about leaving months prior. I love Jane with all my being but I was always going to be second. Jane has this...this  _ need _ to be the best. Not the winner. But the best she can be. She’d stay up for a week at a time if she could solve a case faster - nevermind the rate of accuracy in cognitive reasoning depletes after more than 30 hours of activity. She would sleep at her desk, unwilling to make the drive home in case new information came to light. When I would mention it, she’d cry and apologize and I know for a fact that she meant it. I do. But, I just don’t think she ever remembered that I was there. Like she only has room for one subject at a time and that subject was never going to be me, as selfish as it sounds.” 

 

By now Dr. Isles was teary eyed and her nose a little pinker than before. Mulder could see that this woman was struggling to keep composure in the quiet diner. 

 

“Do you wanna come back to my place?” Mulder motioned for his check. 

 

“In what sense? I’m sorry, I’m very poor at understanding people socially. I’m a very black and white kind of person. I’m also not ready to-”

 

“To talk, nothing else. I’m not asking for any lucrative reasons.” Mulder reassured her and dropped a ten dollar bill on the counter. 

 

Maura nodded, seemingly assured. “I-I haven’t dated anyone. I don’t really want to. It feels like cheating but  _ I’m _ the one that left.”

 

They both stood and Mulder waved at Tara, who nodded back quietly. 

 

“Did you drive here?” Maura asked, scanning the parking lot.

 

“No, I walked.” at her horrified look he explained further, “I only live two blocks from here.”

 

“Oh gosh. Let me drive you at least? I can’t stay for long, but it’s no trouble.”

 

Mulder nodded and followed her to her vehicle.

 

The ride back was quiet and when they arrived at his apartment he turned to Maura. She looked at him for a moment, taking him in. Not...sexually. Far from that, more...affectionately - like one would look at a long-lost friend. Slowly she leaned towards him and for a brief moment he panicked at the contact until she placed a feather-light kiss on his cheek.

 

“I think I’ve talked myself dry actually. I would love to talk again though. I’m at the diner Tuesdays and Thursdays. See you again soon?”

 

“I’ll see ya around. It was nice to talk to someone who understands.”

 

Mulder exited the vehicle with a small wave and let himself into the dark apartment. Slowly he made his way inside, letting his eyes adjust. His bedroom was far away, too far for his spent legs. The couch was a comfort he rarely partook in. It was too easy to revert to his safe place; he had to make sure he didn’t indulge too much for fear of relapsing into his hollowed state once again. 

 

But tonight had been tough, mentally and physically. So, he thought that maybe tonight he deserved it. 

 

Tonight he deserved to feel safe. 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that this fic will not turn into a diary -style fiction. But, I feel like hearing Scully's side of events is crucial in understanding her mental state.

_ Thursday Feb 23rd 2017 _

 

_ I promised myself that I would write more in a solid effort to put my thoughts and feelings into tangible truths. Sometimes I falter, sometimes I quit. Rarely do I write things of worth. But, tonight I have feelings swirling about that if I do not conquer, will consume me for weeks.  _

 

_ He remembered my birthday, I knew he would. Not because of the impeccable memory he possesses, but the burning desire to persevere even in the most unfavoring of situations. There was no grandeur - I knew there would not be. Just a small reminder that he is okay and that I am alright. I may be reading too far into the symbolism of flowers, but the change of delivery address leads me to believe that the thought of home is too painful for him to bear, just another broken home to which he came from. A solitary rose for a solitary birthday, how fitting.  _

 

_ Mulder is a phoenix, rising from emotionally charged ashes and thriving under situations where most would crumble. A man who was fueled solely on the abuse done onto him and the regret he faces in accepting it. Of all the forms of torture he had endured, I cry at the thought of our partnership being at the top of the list.  _

 

_ This is why he left, I am already aware. I ignored not only his cries for help but also his wholehearted attempt to keep me away from the darkness that I criminalized him for leading directly to us. I pushed him onto a pedestal he did not want and I ceased to be his foundation when he wavered. Some would call me manipulative, I prefer the term emotionally insecure.  _

 

_ What kind of partner was I - professional and passionately - to tend to his burns so carefully but neglect aftercare so I could in turn forget myself and the vulnerabilities that I also had. _

 

_ The darkness was so overwhelming to me that during a routine course at Quantico, I broke.  _

 

_ I simply broke.  _

 

_ Why? _

 

_ Because in small break in educational buzzwords and snippets of medical jargon, I realized that our cadaver was a young adult with blonde hair and blue eyes, whose name was William.  _

 

_ Not my William, but just close enough to put that first crack in the walls that I had erected in my heart. I made the mistake of showing my emotions to a class of twenty-somethings. I misspoke by telling them that I’d lost a child young, and that this poor soul in front of us reminded me of him. _

 

_ The class wept with me, and I knew right then that they would never see me as an instructor again. They would call me Dr. Dana Scully, M.D. - the woman who cried over a corpse at Quantico after one too many cases that reminded of everything she’d lost.  _

 

_ So, after 15 or so emotionless embraces from the class and a few silent nods, I replied to the email sitting in my inbox asking for a temporary Medical Examiner in Boston.  _

 

_ These students would never see me the same again so I could not see them again. _

 

_ That night when I told Mulder of my plans to uproot us to Boston, the hope in his eyes alone made me decide that this was the correct decision. I, once again, put my feelings aside and focused on his well being. He did not ask me to; putting him first let me forget about the tempest of despair that was building deep within myself.  _

 

_ We’d made dinner and then love, basking in the purest exhaustion our aging bodies could handle. These are the times that I now miss the most. His bottom lip, the sole indicator of his mood. His stubble, as much as I told him to shave it, was grounding to me. I am a textual person, I like things that I can feel to tether myself to the here and now. Sometimes, just holding his beautiful face was enough to fight off my demons. Now, I write.  _

 

_ I am doing alright now, although I don’t know why I’m telling this to a journal. I have made a few friends - granted it’s been over a year that I’ve been here. Jane Rizzoli has taken me in, along with her family. They have treated me kindly and I do hope that they aren’t upset with me taking Maura’s position.  _

 

_ I’ve considered trying to find her, Maura Isles. Not to cause problems, but to project my issues. Why would someone abandon someone at their most vulnerable. I want to yell at her, tell her that distancing herself is okay but ghosting someone is the most disrespectful form of excommunication possible. That Jane Rizzoli was simply so used to being alone, even after all of these years, that sharing herself with another human was tough.  _

 

_ I want to look this Dr. Isles in her eyes and tell her that leaving someone in an act of self-savior does not work. I know this because I have failed at it numerous times. Only this time, it’s had a lasting effect.  _

 

_ But that would be a lie, and I’m very sure of it. I don’t mean anything I want to say to her, I just want to yell at someone so I may hear the words aloud.  _

 

_ This birthday was blissfully uneventful. Vince Korsak brought me a cupcake from the bakery a few blocks away. Jane’s brother gave me a book about women in STEM. Jane and I went to dinner and then a movie. Although I had to reassure Angela Rizzoli that Jane and I were just friends and that as attractive as she was - I was not interested in anything more than friendship.  _

 

_ Dating seems wrong, almost like cheating. I know Mulder is protective and possessive, but he lost those rights when he packed up his life and left in the middle of the day. It’s only been three months, but my self worth has plummeted. I’m a little old for hookups, and I want nothing other than physical contact. How many 50-somethings just want to fuck with no repercussions? _

 

_ Probably more that I’d like to admit. I will never find out because I will likely not try. I will not allow myself to let go just yet - not of Mulder, but of myself. I will not let go of the feeble hope that this will work itself out with no work from me. Yes, it is foolish. However, it’s what I need to believe to be functional right now. I feel myself wavering in my resolve, but I'm unsure if that is a good or bad thing.  _

 

_ If the opportunity presented itself, I cannot say that I would not take it though. The thought of Mulder with someone else bothers me, not because he had revoked our promises to cherish each other, but because I know that his indiscretion would be my doing. Was it indiscretion? I hope to never find out.  _

 

_ Spring has sprung in Boston and my allergies are a wreck, I contemplated buying bee pollen yogurt again, but perhaps that’s a habit best left in the basement of the Hoover building. So many of my habits stem from there; I wonder if I’ve truly left there sometimes.  _

 

_ I should try to sleep, I’m testifying in court tomorrow and I don’t want any mishaps, especially since the homicide department has been working this case for months. I especially want Jane to win because I don’t think she’s slept through the night since Christmas.  _

 

_ Sounds like someone else I know and love for their tenacity and dedication to a different truth.  _

 

_ Goodnight.  _

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, this will not turn into a diary-entry style of fic.

 

 

_ Draft: First _

_ Written on: 3-1-207 _

_ Years covered : 1993-1994 _

_ Chapter: 4  _

 

_ The Introduction of Dana Scully _

 

 

_ When I first got wind of a having a potential “partner” assigned to me, I did not take it well. In fact, I reacted to it pretty poorly. Maintenance did not enjoy getting a call to patch hole I’d punched in my wall; especially since there were no windows to vent the small.  In my defense, the first experience I had with sharing the X Files was at best a disaster. Not only were they my life’s work, )or at the time at least a few years of work). But, the quest to find my sister was my only focus, my only goal in life. Yes, I loaned myself out to the Behavioral Science Unit sparingly, but most of my time was spent tracking every lead I could on Samantha’s disappearance. The Bureau knew this, so they took every chance they could to remind me that I was graciously allowed my arduous search. So long as I caught their killers, I could go play in the corner. Or, rather, a basement in my case.  _

 

_ I was engulfed in my obsession to find her, sometimes I think I still am. In hindsight, I think that my quest was the only thing keeping me alive at times. I had a mother who’d rather not speak to me if not to leak to me the nature of my genetics and a father who was sitting on such shame that I would first loathe him for but the appreciate as the full details of the truth became known. So, in an effort to direct my yearning in a positive direction, every waking moment was spent searching for Samantha. I did eventually find out what happened to her - but that’s a different story.  _

 

_ Some time in early ‘93, Danny slipped me a file as I was walking upstairs to pilfer one of the BSU’s various coffee makers. It was an injustice that I was never given one of the cheap government issued ones, but a department made up of twenty people had five. He never told me the context of the file, but as I sat at my desk with a fresh brewed cup of Folgers, I figured out that they’d tried to debunk me in the most passive-aggressive way that the Director could. . Not only had the Chief Blevins assigned me a partner, he assigned me a female scientist. Now, before you get upset about that statement, I was just vulnerable to having a female partner because the one I’d had previously had pretty much decimated me.  _

 

_ Like a dutiful Agent, I quickly learned all that I could about the woman assigned to me. I snagged a copy of her Senior Thesis and a few publications that were authored by her. I read up on this woman, recruited out of medical school specifically for the FBI. At the time, I did not think that maybe her recruiting was pre-assigned not by intelligence or medical skill, but by the result of her genetics. Later, I would come to find that our assignments were not by fate. No, nothing inside the government happens without someone pulling the puppet strings above. It dehumanizing to figure out that we, as humans, do have free will. But, when it comes to the FBI - there was no such thing.  _

 

_ I had wanted to travel to Bellefleur, Oregon for a few days. But, when Scully was assigned to me I  figured that the flight there would be a good test to see how this green agent stood up. That, and the long drive from the airport to the small town was one i wasn’t keen on doing alone.  _

 

_ After reading her papers and some transcripts of interviews, I really thought that I had a handle on Dana Scully. I categorized her a spy; a scientist assigned to the basement to rip my life’s work to shreds. I knew that the Bureau hated me and my quest, but they loved my compliance at the BSU so they overlooked my day-to-day activities. Would she even speak to me? Or would she try to apply scientific reason tho things that predated science itself?  _

 

_ When Scully first arrived, I heard her shuffling from the elevator. I could tell she was stalling, likely sizing herself up for meeting someone as ridiculous as Spooky Mulder.  I didn’t blame her. Coming down to the basement was a huge offense to one’s career.  _

 

_ Her knock was gentle yet short. When I hollered at her to come in, I was quite surprised. She was much smaller than I’d anticipated but I could tell that would not be an issue. The motivation and determination she wore as well as her three inch pumps were enough to convince me that she was definitely a worthy adversary. I was actually disappointed that I’d be knocking heads with her instead of co-conspiring.  _

 

_ I grilled her, very similar to an interrogation. She met my wit with hers and I eventually conceded. I was quite impressed. Not many women survive in the cesspool of masculinity in the FBI. Most of the women who’d gotten past the hazing were either reduced to desk work or escaped because they were more masculine types themselves.  It was bullshit really. I can only hope times have changed.  _

 

 

_ When we’d gone out on our first case and experienced the things we did, I really thought she’d high-tail it back to Blevins and tell him that she was not cut out for the position- something I assumed she never did. Based on her resume, Dana Scully was a lot of things, but certainly not a quitter. Bellefleur would become the home to some of the most terrible memories we had, but at this time it was just a class of teenagers being abducted against their will. It was a challenging case - one I’ll document in the future. That small town in the Pacific Northwest was the beginning and end of some of the best and most challenging years of my life.  _

 

 

Mulder closed his journal and set his pen down with a content sigh. For weeks he’d been procrastinating this part of his book - the part where Scully was introduced. He hadn’t even contacted any publishers or even any editors. However, he had done a lot of research into self-publishing, and the more he looked into it the more he leaned towards it. If he published it himself, he didn’t have to worry about changing details to fit a certain narrative. Plus he really didn’t want ask for Scully’s permission until it was finished. Hopefully by then they were on speaking terms. 

 

The sun from the windows warmed his face. Finally the dark mush of winter was melting away to the saturated spring the East Coast was notorious for. It was barely March but already the temperature had risen to almost sixty degrees during the day. Mulder had left the gym to pursue his book so his days remained free to do as he please. He had a makeshift guideline of when he wanted to complete things, and he was hoping to have the book finished within the year. 

 

Skinner had called him a few days ago, reminding him of his text back in January and also just to catch up. He’d almost asked the Assistant Director about Scully but he knew that as much as he desired to know, that he was not ready for answers just yet. They’d chatted about how Kersh had retired early, and now that Walter was up for promotion, their contact had to be far and few. Mulder understood, knowing that being in the same position at the FBI for over 20 years had obviously affected Skinner more than he’d let on. He’d asked about Mulder’s book superficially. It was obvious that he did not want the details just yet, especially since he was likely responsible for giving them more than half of the cases in it. 

 

Maura Isles, the Doctor Mulder had met at the diner had offered to be his editor. They still met every Tuesday night and talked about life and love over rhubarb pie and fresh coffee. When he’d told her about the content of the book, her eyes had opened wide and she’d double checked that this was non-fiction. 

 

Mulder had laughed out loud, a hearty chuckle that eventually turned into an uncharacteristic guffaw. Dr. Isles had just looked at him curiously as if to gauge as if he was laughing at her or just tickled by the question. She was like Scully in the sense that she believed in science and only science. However, she’d told him many times that science was larger than just what the people on earth knew. Then, she’d gone off on a tangent about how Scientists estimated that globally, the people of Earth had only uncovered .01% of the science available to them. Sometimes, when she went off on her educated rants, Mulder was reminded of the passion that Scully had and he missed her. They really would get along well. 

 

He’d told her that once. She’d mulled it over and nodded in acceptance. Then, she’d admitted to him that he reminded her of her ex-fiance back in Boston. They shared the same single-mindedness however, Maura had left earlier into the decline than Mulder had. The pleasant Doctor had explained how her childhood was filled with staunch socialites and a cold parentage. Even after she’d learned that she was adopted, Maura told Mulder that her mother did not try to engage her at all. 

 

They’d bonded over parents, Maura admitting that her biological father was a mob boss. Mulder had laughed at that and explained that his father had been in a sort of consortium responsible for initiating the eventual decline of humanity. They both agreed that their fathers were terrible as were their mothers. Maura had opened up to him about her in-laws and how’d they’d taken her in. He’d in turn explained how the Scully family did the same thing. 

 

Jerry insisted they were sleeping together and Mulder explained every time that people could be friends without any sexual feelings. Especially since Maura was a lesbian and Mulder was not in the market for any intimacy as a whole. They’d just shared similar experiences and were living through similar times. So, Mulder appreciated the friend he’d made. It was very nice to have someone validate him, especially since society as a whole had been calling him a crackpot for ages. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the first major reveal. :)I hope no one figured out what I was leading up to. ;) Stay tuned, kiddos.

 

 

 

Scully checked her watch, she still had about a half an hour until she needed to be home. She was curious as to why Skinner had called her and asked her to watch ESPN tonight. Jane, who always knew what what teams were playing, had admitted that she had no idea what was going on. However, Rizzoli had offered to hang out at her house and keep her company through whatever she was supposed to watch.

 

After getting stuck in traffic for an hour - which is why she did not drive during rush hour - Scully decided to just call Jane and see if she’d left yet.

 

“Rizzoli.”

 

She sounded distracted.

 

“Jane? Hey it’s Dana. I know that you said that we’d watch whatever game at my house but I’m stuck in traffic. I’m like 20 minutes from your house if we could switch it to there? Plus, you’ve got the fancy tv. I’m sure nothing would pain you greater than watching something on my 19 inch.” Dana spoke into the microphone at the top of her vehicle.

 

“Yeah, that’s fine. Ma’s a little under the weather anyway.” Just come in when you get here, I’m putting her to bed right now. Also, you owe me because I’m avoiding every penis joke there ever was.”

 

“You’re a peach, Rizzoli.” Scully hung up and flipped her turn signal to get into the other lane.

 

 

 *******

 

“Come ON JERRY!” Mulder bellowed into the dark office. “You said you were ready a half hour ago. We’ll be late if we don’t leave.”

 

After a few beats, his roommate stuck his head out of the door to his office and shook his head.

 

“Mulder, I said I’d get you home. I didn’t promise when! It’s not my fault your bike has a flat. Call an Uber!”

 

“Seriously? You said if I walked up to the deli and brought you a cheesesteak, you’d drive me back!”

 

“That’s before I had this...caseload fall onto me. Ya know?”

 

Mulder rolled his eyes and he heard Jerry’s secretary giggle from his office. Of course. He flipped his hand up in resignation and pulled out his cell phone. Maura’s apartment was only a mile or so and she had a TV.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey Maura, it’s Mulder. I know it’s a Saturday but I have a huge favor to ask.”

 

“Our friendship isn’t only valid on Tuesdays, Mulder, ask away,” the Doctor said warmly.

 

“Well, I got word from a former coworker that I’m supposed to watch something on ESPN and supposedly it’s important. However, I’m kind of far away from my apartment and it starts at 6. Do you care if I watch it there? I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but this coworker wouldn’t tell me unless it was important.” Mulder said in one breath, hoping for the best.

 

“Of course! I love ESPN! Well, I don’t love it but I used to watch it with Jane all the time and now I understand it. How far are you? Do you need a ride?”

 

“I’m about a mile out. It’s okay. I’ll run, it’ll calm my nerves a little. See you in ten?”

 

“Okay! I’m excited! Jo and I never have company!”

 

Maura hung up and Mulder quickly ran out of the office space and onto the street. Thankfully, because he biked everywhere, he was in the habit of carrying everything in a backpack. Hopefully he’d get there with plenty of time to relax and see whatever Skinner was so adamant that he watch.

 

*****

 

“Hey!” Jane exclaimed as she welcomed Scully into her home. Dana had been here more than a few times and each time she forgot just how well Jane’s home was decorated. Beautiful art hung on the walls accompanied by pieces on shelves. It was a very lived in yet put together home. Scully was only a little bit envious. She assumed that she’d never really feel at home anywhere so long as Mulder was gone.

 

“Thank you, thank you. You have no idea. My old boss, A.D. Skinner told me this. He knows our history and was there for most of my career,” Scully gushed as she patted the Detective’s cheek in admiration.

 

Jane looked around and motioned to living room.

 

“Ma went to bed so I brought out the hard stuff! I even put Bass in the basement.”

  
Scully laughed at the bag of doritos and the bottles of blue moon on the table. She sat down on Rizzoli’s comfortable couch and looked at her watch. She was just in time.

 

“So, why are we watching ESPN at 6 on a Saturday? It’s probably NASCAR, which is not all that interesting? When did Skinner call you?”

 

“Well, he called Mulder’s old phone a few months ago and I answered it. He told me that he was sorry that we were no longer together and that I should watch this channel at this time and that I would understand when I saw it. “

 

“Weird. Okay. Well, cheers.”

 

They clinked bottles together and turned on the tv.

 

*****

“I’m not sure what you’re going to watch so I just sliced up some cheese and poured some wine, if that’s okay.” Maura motioned towards the platter on the counter.

 

Mulder smiled in response and picked up the wine glass. It looked funny in contrast to his sweaty gym clothes but that didn’t matter right now. When her turned around, Mulder drank half the glass and plopped down in a recliner. Maura ran outside to let her dog Jo Friday out. The first time she’d told him that she had a dog named Jo Friday, it had tickled him pink. He’d always wanted a dog, but based off Queequeg’s demise it seemed best not to subject a pet to their lives.

 

His watch beeped on the hour and Mulder quickly turned the tv on. The remote looked very complicated but he’d noticed the info key right off the bat. He searched the guide until he found ESPN. The little bar in the 6p.m. time slot just said “Informational television”. So, he selected that and waited for what was in store.

 

_Good afternoon and welcome to the 2017 edition of the westerns finals of the Scripps Spelling Bee. Remember that the winner of this contest goes on to compete in the finals in Washington D.C. on November 2nd.  Now, before we read the rules, let us introduce the judges!_

 

Mulder’s heart sank. Was this a prank? Why had Skinner told him to watch a Spelling Bee?

 

_For our first judge, we have Tom Boll from UCLA. He is a Professor of Literature and has a Master’s in Linguistics._

 

They listed a few more judges and still nothing stood out. When they finally announced the timekeeper, the librarian to the local High School, Mulder knew that this was no prank. He cranked the volume up and turned the captions on. His mind raced, trying to connect the dots trying to figure it out but he had no idea.

 

Maura crept in and sat down in a chair facing TV and was still. Mulder didn’t acknowledge her presence nor did he pet Jo when she’d asked for attention.

 

****

 

“Holy shit,” Scully whispered, her eyes wide.

 

Jane turned her head away from the television. Scully stood up and faced the detective, mouth open.

 

“What?!”

 

“I know the timekeeper! I know him! That’s Gibson Praise!”

 

“Uh, I hate to break it to you Dana. But, they just said his name was-”

 

“Was George Hale, I know! That’s the pseudonym that Mulder used to use when he was on the run. Why the hell is he there?” Scully scrambled for her phone to call Mulder and yelled when she realized that she had no number for him.

 

“Gibson...fuck! GIbson is a psychic. He has alien DNA and was a wanted by the government for years. I can’t believe it. I don’t know what any this means!”

 

“Well, we can’t figure this shit out if you keep screaming. C’mon let’s keep watching!” Jane said matter-of-factly. “I still can’t believe you fucking deal with aliens.”

 

Scully nodded, and kept her focus on Gibson, even though her mind was a mess. He looked different with a beard considering she’d only seen him with a baby face. Hell, she hadn’t seen him since he was 14 and pubescent. Granted, that was more than 15 years ago. It was nice to see him seemingly safe, John and Monica must have done a good job hiding him. Although being a librarian was something Scully never imagined him doing, she supposed the quiet was refreshing, especially under a different name.

 

When the announcers started to test the teenagers, Scully found that most of the words used were quite complicated - some she hadn’t heard in years. .

 

*****

 

Mulder was nervous.

 

 

Why would Gibson be hiding as a librarian at a local high school? How had he survived this long? It sounded bleak, but Mulder assumed that either the FBI or aliens would have gotten to Gibson eventually. Moreso, how the hell did Skinner know this?

 

 _Next up we have Number 34 spelling the word_ _Vivisepulture._

 

The poor kid on the screen looked eight years old. He spelled his word correctly and sat back down. A few more kids came up and even fewer made it through. The next contestant stood up and Mulder was no closer to his answer. It would help if the camera would stop panning the audience and actually focus on the children competing.

 

*****

 

Scully ran to the bathroom during the commercials and ran back to the couch just in time to see a child spell Narcolepsy. She looked at Jane who looked bored and very, very confused.

 

“Did I miss anything?” Scully asked, not breaking eye contact with the television. “You seem bored.”

 

“I have never felt more dumb in all my life,”Jane admitted, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “You missed a few kids but that’s it. They all made it into the final round so you’ll see them again.”

 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be seeing right now,” Scully admitted, “The thing is almost over and I haven’t seen anything! It would help if they used names instead of calling all this kids numbers. They aren’t even showing their faces!”

 

“Yeah, true. All that’s left is the final round. It’ll be over soon.”

 

They sat there for another few minutes while they ran through the sponsors. Maybe Gibson was all that they needed to see?

 

“Here we have contestant 51, spelling Oligonucleotide.”

 

*****

 

Mulder was almost asleep. It wasn’t his fault that the hour long Spelling Bee was almost as boring as the financial meetings the FBI held quarterly. All he’d taken away from this was that Gibson Praise had found himself a job as a librarian - which he assumed was due to the peace and quiet the job entailed.

 

With one eye open, Mulder saw a montage of photos crossed the screen. Just as he was about to call it quits, he saw a kid’s photo on the screen. Obvious this kid had won the semi finals,, given the amount of confetti raining down on the screen. Upon further review, something looked familiar to Mulder. Had he helped this kid on a case? Why would Gibson care about an old X-File?

 

Once the camera panned in, Mulder had his answer. Blood pounded in his ears as his heart beat erratically. He already knew, he knew exactly who this was. Truth be told, it did have to do with an X-File, but one that he’d been directly involved in. He’d seen that look so many times, especially when Scully was nervous or frustrated. When the banner and an official photo appeared on screen, Mulder actually cried out.

 

_William Van De Kamp age: 14_

 

“William! That’s William!”

 

“What?” the Doctor stood quickly, looking around for danger.

 

“My son, that’s my son!” Mulder paused the screen with the remote by his side.

 

“William Van De Kamp? He’s your son? You have a son?”

 

“Scully got pregnant when I got abducted and had our child. I only knew him for a few days before I went on the run from the FBI. She named him William! He’s 16 but I’ll bet the changed it to 14 for protection! Plus he looks just like her!” Mulder pulled out his phone.

 

He google searched Scully’s name and an old photo of them from the opening night of The Lazarus Bowl popped up. He shoved the phone at Maura, who looked like she was still processing this information.

 

“Look at her! They’re almost identical!”

 

“I’ve seen her face before, Mulder. You think I just left my office to anyone? I handpicked her to take my spot! They are not identical but I do see a resemblance to you both.” she shoved the phone back at him and motioned towards the screen.

 

 

 

*****

“Oh my God,” Scully whispered, her throat thick with emotion.

 

“What?”

 

“That’s….that’s,” Dana tried to speak but the panic rising within her made it impossible. Her breaths came in short bursts, and she knew if she did not calm down, she would faint. The dull roar of her heartbeat pounded through her head similar to ocean waves. With shaky hands she motioned for Jane to stop the program.

 

The detective scrambled for the remote and hit the pause button.

 

Dana curled into a ball on the couch, silently sobbing into her work pants. For years she’d hoped and prayed for this moment - a confirmation that her son was alive. Now that it was happening, she wanted nothing but to fall into Mulder’s arms and seek validation and comfort for the choices she’d made.

 

Long, strong arms enveloped her and pulled her into an embrace. Jane was nowhere near Mulder’s size, but the warmth was comforting nonetheless. They sat there, a shaking mass for a long while until Scully’s panic subsided and she was able to articulate what had set her off.

 

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed. “William, William Van De Kamp. He...he’s my son.”

 

“Your son.” The detective’s tone was not accusatory, or prodding. Instead it came off as an understanding and blanket of empathy, which Dana appreciated immensely. They’d spoken of him briefly in the past, but nothing more than passing conversations.

 

“They said D.C. right?” Scully asked, wiping her tears away and breaking their embrace.

 

Jane nodded and pointed at the screen. “Yeah, I think they said in November. Can you wait that long?”

 

“I don’t think I can. I’ll call Skinner tomorrow and see what he says. I wish Mulder knew. All he’s ever wanted was to meet William. He got so little time with him and it’s my doing.”

 

“Dana. Look!”

 

Jane had hit play on the t.v. and saw that the exit footage was William shaking hands with Gibson. The banner at the bottom of the screen said that William was from the same High School that Gibson worked at. Which, in all reality was very unlikely to be a coincidence.

 

“I wonder if Gibson is there to look after him. That would be idea. Let me explain our history with him, and you’ll see why Gibson Praise being alongside William is so important to me.”

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N : I ship MSR like there’s no tomorrow. So, don’t light me on fire for this chapter! It will get better!!! This got long so I split it into two chapters.

 

 

 

 

“ _ This is Walter Skinner. I can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I’ll get in touch with you soon _ .” 

 

 

Scully grumbled as she hung up on the voicemail. She’d called her former boss a total of 12 times in the past two weeks to no avail. Ever since the night she saw William on the television her life had been a mess. 

 

Jane had been a godsend, asking if she could run a background check on him but Scully had refused. As anxious as she was, she still understood that any wrong move could put her son at risk. It took everything she had to not abuse her position and look up his whereabouts, other than the Wyoming High School where Gibson worked.

 

Her phone vibrated against her desk and she grabbed it quickly. 

 

 _“We_ _can’t speak yet. Don’t use this number again and DO NOT try to find him. I will send someone to explain everything to you. I’m in a delicate position too. Wait for my contact- you will know them when you see them.”_

 

 

Her heart leapt at the message. It seemed strange but having Skinner answer her and confirm that she did in fact see William - her William - on television was comforting. 

 

_ “Also Mulder knows. I told him. He is safe also. I don’t know where he is but he is safe. You will meet you contact soon.”  _

 

She was not expecting a second message nor was she expecting to hear about Mulder. To hear that he was okay, took a load off of her shoulders. She would not forgive herself if either her son or her lover were harmed due to her inability to handle things correctly. 

 

Her phone buzzed again.

 

_ “Celebrating our win at the robber later! Guilty on all 34 counts! Come down!” _

 

Followed by :

 

_ “Plus there’s some cops here from the UK on vacation and they’re hilarious!” _

 

Scully smiled, she could use a beer...or three. 

 

 

 

“Dana Fuckin’ Scully!” 

 

Scully looked down the bar and laughed. There was Jane, sitting at the bar arm wrestling someone that Scully assumed to be one of the Metro Officers. There was a crowd building up around them, and some of the traffic cops from BPD were pounding out a drumroll on the bar, amping up the game. 

 

“Get ‘em Rizzoli!”

 

“Smash the Yank!” 

 

A large “Whoop!” resonated throughout the crowd. It was nice to be able to shy away in the din of the rowdy bar. So far this year was difficult and all she needed was to hide in the shadows and watch her friend decimate some Bobbies. 

 

She moved to the bar and sat down a few chairs away from the mob. The bartender came over and asked her order. Instead of her usual red wine, she decided for liquor. 

 

“Whisky sour.” Scully set her card on the bar to start a tab.

 

When the bartender brought her drink over, a hand pushed her card back. Scully looked up and over at where the hand came from. She regarded the women in front of her with interest. 

 

“Let me. I love a woman who drinks whisky at 6 p.m.,” a sultry accent attached to small woman confessed. 

 

“Do you now? Does it matter  _ why  _ she’s drinking it so early?” Scully tossed back playfully. 

 

Judging by the woman’s attire in front of her, she was likely travelling with the men Jane was currently annihilating. 

 

“Not so much. So long as they’re up for company.” The blonde winked at Scully and tilted her head to the side. 

 

Scully nodded and looked over the form sitting on a stool next to her. The woman was lithe but solid. Her movements were fluid and soft, the complete opposite of the homicide detectives hollering down the bar. Soft hair hung meticulously, barely touching the woman’s soft silk blouse at her shoulders. Everything about this woman was so soft, minus her steely gaze and attentive posture. She produced a hand, and in lieu of a handshake, placed a small kiss on Dana’s hand. 

 

“Gibson. Detective Superintendent Stella Gibson.”

 

“Scully. Doctor Dana Scully. That’s quite a title you have there.”

 

“It’s a pleasure,” the British woman whispered into her own glass, making eye contact with Scully just over the rim.

 

“Is it?” 

 

Scully’s heart racec and her breathing was much more shallow . The woman next to her exuded confidence - sexual and professional - and Dana found it alluring. Stella’s eyes softened as she smiled a small smile that was just above freezing. She seemed to ponder her words, and leaned over to whisper in her ear. 

 

“If you’d like it to be,” Stella purred. 

 

Energy shot up Scully’s spine and the exciting words hung between them for a few moments as Scully tried to align the opposite poles of her body. On one hand, it had been well more than few years since sexual contact was pleasurable and quite a bit longer since it’d been with anyone but Mulder. But on the other hand, he gave up that right when he’d ghosted her. Should she feel guilty having sexual impulses for anyone other than her estranged spouse? Biologically it made sense, it was spring - the season of fertility - and even though Dana was barren, it didn’t stop nature from barreling at her full force. 

 

After a few moments of silence, Stella reached out and placed a light hand on the curve of Scully’s cheek. The soft pad of her thumb traced the top of Scully’s lip and up her cheekbone like a pearlescent highlight. 

 

“I’m only asking for a night, nothing more. I fly back in two days, and I could use some company,” Gibson motioned down the bar. “I have found that my travel companions are nothing more than  _ cavemen  _ with badges when in the United States.”

 

“Yes,” Scully exhaled, trying her best to calm the raging storm her nerves were producing. “I would love to. I’m recently separated an-”

 

“From a man?” Gibson interjected, tucking a blonde lock behind her ear. 

 

“Well, I-”

 

“Or a woman?” Stella interrupted. 

Scully flushed crimson at the interjection, “No! Well, not since college!”

 

“I’m joking, Dana. You don’t owe me any explanations. I’m just teasing you - you’re too tense.” Stella looked back at her drink on the bar. 

 

Scully sighed, “I’m sorry, I’m just in a strange place in life.”

 

“Aren’t we all?” Stella started. “Life in itself is strange. Nothing but a clock ticking down until our demise. Humans, as daft as we are, still try and avoid what life gives us as if they results can be changed.”

 

“That’s awfully introspective for an evening at the dirty robber.” Scully pointed out. 

 

“And you’re still avoiding my question.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry. This is what I do when I’m nervous.  But, it’s more than that. It’s very long and complicated but I don’t want to-”

 

Stella downed the rest of her drink and set it further up on the bar. She turned towards Scully with a look of understanding. “He left you?” 

 

It took a moment for Scully to respond. After a lengthy pause, she breathed in deeply and started her explanation. “Well, yes. But-”

 

“Why should you save yourself for someone who doesn’t think of you as worth saving?” 

 

Scully mulled this over for a minute. She saw the woman’s logic and agreed with most of it. However, she and Mulder were the only ones who could decipher the puzzle that was their marriage. To explain it was too much effort, especially to someone who was leaving in two days. 

 

Dana tapped her glass on the counter a few times, swirling the ice cubes around the pink liquid. “Should I feel guilty?” 

 

“You should feel things. Is guilt one of them? I’m not sure. But, you do deserve to  _ fee _ l as a whole. Feeling anything nowadays is a feat itself.”

 

For a moment, Scully was tempted to throw a thinly-veiled innuendo at her company. However, she came up with a better idea. Slowly she took her hand, still cold from the glass on the bar, and touched Stella’s thigh lightly. The slight jump against her skin, said more than any innuendo would have. 

 

“Do you feel?” Scully questioned the blonde in front of her. After their conversation, it was becoming easier for Scully to trust this woman. Rarely was she comfortable with anyone, especially after such a brief meeting. 

 

 

Stella smirked. “No, not nearly as much as I should.”

 

Scully started to speak but as soon as Stella moved to whisper in her ear, she quickly quieted down. 

 

Stella’s breath sent shivers down Scully’s spine. “However, I’ve made my bed and I prefer if both of us laid in it.”

 

The innuendo in the sentence was not overt, and Scully ate it all up. With a quick wave at Jane, who eyed the pair and raised her eyebrows knowingly, Scully motioned to the door of the Robber. Stella smiled at the floor and left the bar. Dana followed, reminding herself to breathe and that she was not doing anything wrong. In fact, if Mulder had been around, he’d probably been a fan as well. 

 

“Where are you staying? I’ll drive.” Scully walked towards Stella and made eye contact. The mere inches between them were electric, almost hot enough to burn. 

 

“Omni Parker. Room 14.”

 

“That’s quite a hotel, must be some vacation you’re on.”

 

“The Met knows that I make my own reservations when on Holiday. I enjoy luxurious things and I don’t enjoy inter-connecting rooms and shotty room service. Besides, I believe America invited us this time.”

 

Boy, she was much different than Mulder. And that was okay. 

 

They boarded into Scully’s car, and as soon as they started driving, Stella put one warm hand on Scully’s exposed thigh. The enticing blonde fingered the seam on her skirt, almost as if she was inspecting the quality of the fabric and not the exposed skin beneath it. 

 

“You are nude under this.” It wasn’t a question. Scully stumbled over words until Stella clarified, “You are minus sheer tights, how feminist of you.”

 

“Oh,” Scully breathed, knowing very well that, that was not what Stella meant at all. 

 

Stella sat back in the passenger seat and crossed her legs. She turned her head away from the road and focused on Scully, “I enjoy it. Women are victims of the patriarchal dress code of the police force and I am incredibly aroused when we break their code. It’s difficult, Dana, to be in a hyper-masculine line of work and still preserve your femininity.”

  
“I’ve never really been all that feminine,” Scully admitted motioned to her sensible clothing.

 

“I disagree. Femininity is whatever you want it to be. It’s viewed as a weakness, that everything fragile in the universe is inherently feminine. However, it’s ridiculously tough to live in a world where you’ll be called a slut for sleeping around, but a prude if you don’t put out.”

 

Scully’s breath became more labored as Stella’s hand drifted a little higher on her skirt. “What do they call you when you sleep with a person you’ve just met in a bar?” 

 

“They don’t,” the Brit explained with a coy smile. “They don’t call you anything because they’re too busy being enthralled and you’re too busy having my face between your thighs to listen to them.”

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big shout out to agoodwoman for helping me with this! I expect this story to be finished around 35 or so chapters so we're almost there!

 

 

Scully splashed cold water on her cheeks in an attempt to ground herself. She focused on the tiny droplets that littered the black marble sink to avoid major decision on the other side of the door. 

 

She refused to feel guilty. She was doing nothing wrong. Mulder could not shame her for this. 

  
The internal turmoil was all her own doing. She was Dana Katherine Scully. She did not take risks. The only one-night stands she’d entertained had always has monumental consequences. This was part of the self care that she was so adamant about now was making sure her needs and wants were met even if they came before someone else’s. Hesitantly, she bounced on her toes a few times as she psyched herself up for what was about to happen. 

 

 

Slowly, she exited the bathroom and turned off the light. The moon poured into the top floor penthouse, casting radiant light over the beauty that was Stella Gibson. The blonde was splayed on the black blanket, her body illuminated and beautiful. The site was pure art - Scully wished she capture this moment and tuck it away forever. 

 

 

A lone finger beckoned her forward, “Dana. Come here, stop staring.” the words flowed from Stella like a stream, making Scully shiver in anticipation. “Looking is fun, but touching is rather enjoyable as well.” 

 

Scully began walking towards the bed, punctuating every step with the undoing of a button on her blouse. By the end of her path, she’d shed her top and unzipped her skirt. She stepped out of her heels and stood at the foot of the bed, clad in only her lacy bra and underwear. Stella sat up on the bed and sat on her knees, matching their bodies up and dipping within a hair’s breadth of Scully’s.

 

They breathed in an aroused synchrony , prolonging the moment. Scully was the first to break the tension. She closed the small distance between them and kissed Stella with a naive hesitation. She wanted this. She wanted tonight to happen. Stella’s lips were soft, supple, and very welcoming. Scully had forgotten how different being intimate was with women. Not better or worse in her opinion but the technique she used and felt from each partner was different.  

 

 

Her hands moved from her sides to wrap around the Stella, who at the moment was gently nibbling on her lips. Stella moved her hands from Scully’s hips and moved towards the clasp on the back of the bra. After a deep breath from Scully, Stella released the clasp and the black lace hit the duvet. When she stopped for a moment, Scully opened her eyes in frustration. 

 

Stella sat one leg on each side of her knees just...staring with a look that Scully couldn’t place. The sudden attention made her flush. It wasn’t that Mulder had never regarded her with such passion, it was that she hadn’t felt desirable in quite a long time.

 

Scully shimmied out of her bottoms and crawled up the bed as she dipped down to kiss all over Stella’s torso. She continued her journey and grazed the tops of her porcelain breasts that were held in place by a stunning balconette. Scully’s warm tongue traced patterns against Stella’s neck and the blonde giggled when she arched up into her touch 

 

 

Scully took this moment to reach under Stella and unclasp her as well. Deft hands removed the garment and set it nicely beside them. It was only polite to take care of such nice things. Scully slithered back down the blonde and teased the seam of the corresponding panties in the same way Stella had fingered her skirt in the car. 

 

“I- I have scars. Ignore them.” Stella’s breathy voice broke the thick silence of the room. 

 

“Understood and appreciated,” Scully responded and she dragged the final piece of clothing off of Stella’s taut body. 

 

Stella reached down and grabbed a handful of Scully’s titian hair and with minute force, she brought her back up to her face. Scully moaned at the contact and Stella pursed her lips in response. “I knew you’d appreciate a little...guidance. It’s arousing to let someone dominate when you have to be so assertive in real life. Let your guard down Dana, you’re safe here.”

 

Scully inhaled deeply and exhaled as she tried her best to relax her body. She laid down next to the nude Superintendent and gave her permission to set the pace.

 

Stella raised herself off the bed and threw a leg over Scully, pressing her heat against a strong thigh. Scully moaned at the contact, and spread her pale legs further - an invitation of sorts. Stella accepted and placed a hand on Scully, slipping digits into her heat. They both froze for a moment, acclimating to each other. 

 

The astute difference between sex with Stella and Mulder was comforting to Scully. Mulder enjoyed verbal foreplay with long strings of elaborate sexual paragraphs that drove her absolutely mad with desire. However Stella was shaping up to be the opposite. No sexual monologues other than the enticing sounds she muttered as she built a rhythm with Scully. It was a new experience, Dana had plenty of sexual partners in the past but not as many as most of the women she knew. Stella for example, seemed to know her charm was enchanting. 

 

 

Scully was surprised at how fluid she and Stella were together. It was not awkward and she did not feel ill-experienced. Her history with women was short. In fact, she could count the number of romantic encounters she had experienced with women on one hand. Once, she’d kissed Detective Reyes when they were out drinking out of sheer desperation and a lot of tequila. At the time she’d chalked it up to Mulder being in the wind and William being gone.They’d laughed it off and to this day it was still marked as the end of her relationship with Jose Cuervo. As time went on, Scully came to terms with the fact that attraction was human nature. 

 

Stella made eye contact with Scully as she removed her hand and descended towards her torso. Scully jumped as warm lips made contact with her center. The very same lips that Scully had worshipped no more than hour ago were now peeking out from over her hips, causing the most delirious pleasure she’d ever felt. The dips and bobs of Stella’s head were soothing, like a soft crest of blonde ocean waves. 

 

After a few minutes, Scully felt the pressure building. Stella replaced her tongue with skilled hands, taking this moment to sink her teeth into Scully’s sensitive inner thigh. Soon after that, Scully rolled her head back and let out a lascivious cry. Spent, Scully took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her pounding heart. 

 

Gently, Stella removed herself and Scully groaned audibly at the feeling. They stayed that way for a moment while their breathing calmed. 

 

“I- I don’t actually have words,” Scully said quietly.

 

Stella smiled, “Actions speak louder than words anyway.”

 

Scully took a deep breath and Stella took her hand back. Feeling overtly confident, Scully captured the blonde’s hand and took it into her mouth, her tongue washing over the tangy digits. Stella hummed in approval and Scully decided that she’d thank her the best way that she could. When she removed Stella’s fingers from her mouth with a small noise, Scully grabbed the blonde gently by the shoulders and pushed her down onto the bed, similar to the position she’d just been in. 

 

Scully placed feather light kissed on the pale skin of her mate and paused to look at the faint lipstick marks on Stella’s skin. Once she reached the neatly cropped curls, she turned her head to the side and saw the faint marks she’d been warned about. Given the depth and angle of them, Scully knew exactly what they were and turned away from them. Hesitantly, she slipped her tongue out to get just a taste. 

 

With confident hands, Scully pushed Stella’s thighs apart, pushing her knees flush against the blanket. The petite mews coming from Gibson were alluring and downright desperate. Scully dipped down and ran her tongue up and down Stella’s entrance. With hands still pinning her legs down, Scully continued her ministrations until she felt Gibson’s body stiffen. 

 

 

“May I-” Stella moaned instead of finishing the question. 

 

Scully raised an eyebrow and sat back on her heels - this was not what she had expected. “May you what?”

 

“May I come?” 

 

“No, you may not.”

 

Stella’s eyes flew open in surprise. She sat up and looked up at Scully, who just smiled and shrugged. 

 

“You said you like to be dominated. I make the rules now.” 

 

The blonde pursed her lips and moved taut against Scully, their eyes mere inches apart. 

 

“I may not have a say, but please for the love of God fuck me soon.” Stella commanded. She did not plead, however Scully saw the faintest hint of desperation in her eyes. 

 

“Not used to your prey fighting back?” Scully teased stepping off of the bed. 

 

“Not quite,” Stella admitted. “Most of my partners are pretty intimidated by me. 

 

“Lay back on the bed. Touch yourself. Show me, teach me how you like it.” Dana commanded from the end of the bed. She let out a low whistle when Stella did as she was told. 

 

The sight of the blonde on the bed with one hand between her legs and the other pinching her tumescent nipples was positively inebriating. After a few minutes of being watched Stella’s limbs began to jerk in a familiar medley again. Scully reunited with her and took control of the ministrations. 

 

“May I please?” Stella tried again, her tone nearing desperation. 

 

“Yes you may. You’ve been so obedient.” Scully praised with a wink. 

 

Stella’s body went rigid then fluid and she came down from her release. Scully climbed back onto the bed and laid down next to her, not quite touching. They laid there, fingers ghosting over each other, letting their bodies settle down. 

 

After a half hour or so, Stella rolled over and played with a lock of Scully’s hair. 

 

“I don’t let guests stay the night, which is a personal policy, and I already know you’re not going to get too attached. So, I have a choice for us.”

 

“What?” Scully was intrigued.

 

“Do you want to share shower and go for a burger? Or would you rather we order in and continue the fun?” 

 

“I don’t have any clothes with me, other than my work attire. I normally keep a change in my car but -”

 

“Just borrow something of mine. It gives me a chance to see you again before I leave.”

 

“I could use a shower, and I do know a diner with good burgers.”

 

“I’ll run us a bath first, just a moment.” Stella rose off the bed and padded towards the bathroom. 

 

Scully watched her leave and stared up at the swirls printed on the ceiling. She expected guilt to creep into her thoughts immediately after, but the guilt did not come. 

 

This was not an act of retribution to Mulder nor was it a fucked-up way to cope. This was all about her. More than a one-night stand but not quite an emotional fuck. Besides, Stella was leaving soon. Scully was more amazed at the allure this woman carried, normally she would not fall to such wiles. Oh well, it was not to be dwelled upon. She couldn’t change what had happened and she refused to regret it. 

 

The faint scent of Lavender permeated the room and Scully knew that her bath was ready. 

 

She’d catch up with Jane tomorrow and explain what had happened. Hopefully she’d wake up in time for work. Although based upon the the bar, most of the Homicide department were going to be feeling their nights as well. 

 

But none of them shared a night with Stella Gibson with the promise of bacon cheeseburgers. So, Scully considered it a win. 

 

 

When Scully woke the next morning, she was confused for a moment at how dark it was outside. With a quick look around, she remembered the night before and flushed scarlet to match the “A” she could imagine on her chest. The clock read 6 a.m., no wonder it was still dark. 

 

She felt around the padded blanket and found the bed empty and cold. Curious, she rolled over, groaning at the protest her over-worked body gave. A single envelope laid on the pillow that just hours ago Stella Gibson had fallen onto, breathless and sweaty. 

 

Scully opened the letter, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. 

 

_ Dana,  _

 

_ Do not be alarmed when you wake and I am gone. Keep the clothes; a memory of our union as I will never forget you. Before you ask,  I was sent to you by a friend. I was to deliver a message to you. I was not sent to bed you, so please do not feel used. I was simply too taken with you to pass up the opportunity - your beauty transcends the photo on file. I have not lied to you, and the Stella you were with yesterday was myself - not a charade.  _

 

_ I was sent to tell you that your dearest friend, by the name Fox is just fine. Your friend George Hale - posing at a High School librarian - was sent by your former Assistant Director. Walter Skinner is the one who contacted me, we go back a while. William is safe, the librarian is his legal guardian - I do not know how that came to be. However, Walter has assured me that you are wise enough to not act impulsively on this matter. I know you said the opposite to me last night, and I understand that those are two separate sides of you, but love is fickle. I will not contact you again, for safety’s sake and because I doubt that you want to hear from me right now. Please do understand that I was sent to speak to you, and that is all. I have attached my email in case you have questions or if you ever need a drink in London. I know Mulder, and have for years. I hope you are able to reunite with your partner, he really is a charming fellow.  I wish the best for you Dana Scully, for you are too rare to be among simple jewels.  _

 - _ _Stella__

 

 

Scully gasped as tears pooled in her eyes. How could someone know these things and tell her afterwards in such a detached manner? She was relieved that William and Mulder were safe, however she felt ridiculously vulnerable as she dressed in the outfit of Stella’s she’d borrowed. It felt like wearing the uniform of a traitor but she couldn’t hate Stella for it. Business was business and pleasure was pleasure. 

 

Scully, of all people, knew that blurring those lines could have catastrophic consequences. In fact, she’d made a life around that grey area. One question she had was how Stella knew Mulder exactly? Were they lovers as well?

 

 

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

_ “We can’t speak yet. Don’t use this number again and DO NOT try to find him. I will send someone to explain everything to you. I’m in a delicate position too. You will know them when you see them. Scully knows too. “ _

 

Mulder read the message over and over, imagining all the possibilities. He clanked his spoon against the plate under his coffee, waiting for Maura to arrive. He felt bad about storming out of her apartment last week, too emotional about seeing William to explain anything. She hadn’t pestered him with any questions either, which is something that he appreciated. 

 

The bell sounded and Mulder looked up and saw Maura looking rather...discontent. He motioned to the booth behind him and when she nodded, he scooped up his coffee and sat down. The high walls gave them a little more privacy and his friend looked like she needed some space. 

 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Maura said quietly. “I’ve had a bit of an emotional day.”

 

Mulder nodded sympathetically, making eye contact with his friend.“Is everything alright?” 

 

“It’s complicated.” Maura said. “When I left Boston last year, I only gave a temporary resignation. My sabbatical was only for a year until i came to a decision. Considering my position is renewed every four years, I’m essentially putting that off. I don’t generally have any competition, so the last time an election was not needed. But, my deadline is a month away and I need to let the Mayor know if I’m coming back or to offer it to Dr. Scully permanently.”

 

Mulder was surprised. Even though Maura had told him when they first met that she hadn’t made a decision yet, it had yet to settle with him that she would have to make a decision so quickly. Either way, her decision would affect Scully. He was unsure if that would affect him, but it seemed important so he wanted to learn more. 

 

“Have you come to a conclusion?” He asked carefully.

 

“I think so,” Maura said. She looked exhausted. “I think I’m going to go back. I miss Jane terribly. It’s been nearly a year. I only hope she’ll have me. Why are relationships so complicated?” 

 

Maura’s lip trembled and Mulder know that going back to her position was not the thing she was concerned about. 

 

“You’re worried she’s found someone else?” 

 

She looked up at Mulder, eyes watering and nodded. Eventually her face crumbled as the tears fell. Seeing the put-together women lose it in front of him made Mulder’s heart ache. Was Scully feeling the same way? Had she moved on after his departure?

  
  


“I,-” Maura started, pausing to clear her throat.”- I have no regrets when it comes to leaving and taking time to myself, but I don’t want to just  _ impose  _ on her.”

 

“Maura, she lives in your home and you were engaged. I doubt you would be imposing. If she’s anything like I was when Scully left, I’ll bet she falls asleep every night replaying every fuck-up she’s ever done.” 

 

Maura looked at him with unabashed vulnerability, “You think so?” 

 

Mulder nodded slowly and motioned to Tara for a refill. When the waitress came to the table he patted the spot on the bench next to him. She looked at him fondly and sat down, pulling her dress over her knees. 

 

“Tara, I need your opinion.”

 

“Sure, Mr. Fox. What can I help you with?” Tara seemed nervous, winding her long ponytail around her finger. 

 

“You know my history, right? Well, Maura here is like a mix between us both, you and I. I know your wife fell off the deep end with some serious stuff. But, Maura’s lady, she got a little too involved with work - police work. Maura’s been gone a year but wants to go back. I say she should go for it. But, you’re a woman - what would you do?”

 

Tara bit her lip and took a moment to answer, “ I would ask first. Are you close to anyone that knows her?” When Maura nodded she continued, “That’s what I would do. Or send a letter, that way you save the awkward words behind and can think about what to say. Ask Mr. Fox for advice, he’s the writer!”

 

Mulder smiled, he wasn’t used to being regarded as a writer. He was writing a book but did that really mean he could claim the title?”

 

“That’s wonderful idea. I think I’ll call her mother tonight. Oh, I’ve missed her so. I’ve missed the whole Rizzoli family.”

 

“Well, I gotta go back to work. But, thanks for askin’ for my opinion. Folks don’t listen to the servers around here much.” Tara stood and smiled at them both. “I hope it works out...for both of you.”

 

She walked away and something stirred in Mulder’s chest. Hearing Maura’s story made him miss Scully something fierce. Unfortunately, the closest relative she has was her brother Bill and Mulder would rather get abducted twice before speaking to him ever again.

 

“So, how is your novel coming along?” Maura asked, looking much better now. “I’ve heard the editor is meticulous!” 

 

Mulder laughed at that, “It’s good. I’ve gotten the first draft pretty close to finished. I’ve covered up until I went to Oregon the second time. It’s kind of painful to write about my abduction in tandem with William being conceived. I’ll email it to you soon.”

 

“How was he conceived, if it’s not too private?”

 

Mulder chuckled, “Well, I don’t know the exact date, but I’m pretty certain it was the first time Scully and I slept together.”

 

“Well, you’re a regular cliche aren’t you? Studies show that at least 16.7% of children conceived are done so the first time the parents have sex.”

 

“That’s interesting,” Mulder laughed at the random tidbit. “I had trotted off to the UK to look into some bogus crop circles, and came back to a different Scully. She’d had some sort of spiritual epiphany and I had been chasing down a hoax with the Metro police. It was pretty funny. Although I did meet a few friends up there.”

 

“In the UK, chasing crop circles? Did they have iron deficiencies and large orbital bones?”

 

“Har-har, Maura. I may have gotten into a pub brawl and made nice with one of the officers there. Her name was Stella. I haven’t heard from her in ages. She saved me from being stuck in the UK. Instead she drove me to airport and booked me a flight home. Her only demands were that I send her Jolly Ranchers every Christmas.

 

“I don’t understand how you meet such characters. I grew up in the type of social setting where everyone looked and acted the same. Unless there was a ball, then everyone spent way too much time being ‘different’ while being identical.” Maura rolled her eyes at the last bit. 

 

“Oh, I saw that too. When I was younger I grew up on Martha’s Vineyard.”

 

“So you understand. It was terrible. I feel like I still carry a lot of that mindset around with me.”

 

“I don’t think you do, honestly,” Mulder assured her. “You are unafraid to deviate from the norm. In your case, I think you just didn’t know what ‘normal’ was. So, you have no baseline to conduct to base your”

 

“That’s...that’s very refreshing actually. Thank you, Fox.”

 

“You’re welcome. I’m not sure if I’ve told you but your situation and the way you’re handling it is very inspiring to me. I may take a page from your book and write Scully a letter.”

 

“How do you think she’s handling seeing William?”

 

“I think it may either make or break her. Years ago, it would have sent her into a spiral of guilt and self-loathing that she would bottle up for ages. But, after all these years - after all that she’s seen, I think she understands the  _ why _ but not the  _ how _ . At least, I hope she does. That’s what makes me want to reach out to her,” Mulder said. He looked at the clock on the wall. “I should probably get going. I need to get past this writer’s block. I have to turn in this novel before my editor beats me.”

 

They both stood and hugged. “Whatever happens, I’m here for you. Okay Maura?”

 

“I know, thank you. I hope we both end up in Boston happily.” 

 

Mulder smiled, he did too. 

 


	23. Chapter 23

“Dana!” Jane Rizzoli waved both arms, in a fashion pretty similar to the displays in front of cell phone stores.

 

Scully adjusted the silk blouse that felt a little too nice against her skin. She inhaled and looked up and her jubilant friend. How Jane Rizzoli never had a hangover was a feat not even science could explain. Jane made her way over with her usual hip-swaying swagger and entered the office. Once Scully looked up from her desk chair and saw her friend with a suggestively cocked eyebrow, she knew that her actions last night would not be ignored. 

 

“Please, oh please, tell me you went home with that 10 from the Robber last night.” when Scully didn’t answer quickly, Jane pressed on, “I’m actually jealous right now. I can’t believe it.”

 

Scully groaned in response and dropped her head into her hands. Before she could face her friend, she breathed deeply and almost moaned at how she smelled like Stella. There was no way this could end well. 

 

“I didn’t bring her home,” Scully whispered. “I went to her hotel. And don’t rate woman, it’s misogynistic.”

Jane yelled so loud that one of the interns peeked around the corner. Scully, unamused waved him off and rolled her eyes at her friend who was currently dancing around the office in some sort of awkward cha-cha. When she’d made a few laps around the office, Jane grabbed the chair in her office and flipped it around backwards. 

 

Jane set her hands on the back of the chair and sat down facing Scully. It was no wonder she had such a positive confession rate - Jane’s interrogation face was pretty intimidating. 

 

“So, tell me everything.”

 

“You know, when you really want to know something, you really do look like Angela,” Scully pointed out. 

 

“You can’t start a story about hot lesbian sex with my Ma. Nope. Can’t happen. Start over.”

 

“Okay,” Scully thought for a moment before continuing. “It was nice, very nice. Incredibly impulsive and not really what I’d planned.”

 

“Is that why you’re wearing Saint Laurent?” Jane reached over the desk and felt the blouse.

 

Scully cocked her head to the side, “You know fashion? You wear the same shirt you got at Target every day, only in different colors.” 

 

“Maura loved designer things. Not for their price - she loved craftsmanship and quality things.” Jane explained. “Besides when you see Maura Isles in Balenciaga, you learn to appreciate these things.”

 

Scully rolled her eyes and handed the note on hotel stationery to her friend. She watched as Jane’s face turned from devious to a snarl. 

 

Jane dropped the letter on the desk with a look of fury. “She didn’t. I’ll ki-”

 

“Jane, no.” Scully interrupted. “I believe her. I believe the letter. I have to.”

 

“Let me run her over. Please? It will make me feel better.” Jane smacked her hands on the desk. 

 

“Please let it be. I don’t want to dwell on it.” Scully sighed.

 

“I suppose. Just for you.” Jane teased. 

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Well, at least the sex was good, right?”

 

Scully laughed at the obvious change of subject. She paused for a moment to think of how she wanted to phrase her feelings. “I thought I would feel guilty, like I was hiding something. But, I don’t feel that way. I truly had a good time. I won’t lie it was nice to be desired again. Plus, we got burgers at like 2 a.m. so I know she’s good people.”

 

Jane made a face. “Good people get burgers? I’m not sure I follow.”

 

“She got onion rings while wearing a thousand dollar blouse and then ate a quarter pound burger.”

 

Jane nodded with wide eyes, “That’s my kinda woman!”

 

“See?”

 

Jane stood up to leave. “ Dana, I gotta ask. Are you like...falling?” 

 

“In love? Gosh no. It wasn’t about love. We made that clear. I think that’s why I agreed. I’ve spent my whole life loving Mulder. I still love him, but I needed someone to want me and he gave up that privilege.”

 

“Do you think it will happen again?” the Rizzoli smirk was back. 

 

“Probably not. I am not a trusting individual, and last night was about as impulsive as I get. So, that’s pretty much out of the question.”

 

“Well, I gotta get upstairs. I told Korsak that I was coming down here to see if you had a hangover. You should see Frankie, he’s wearing _ aviators _ .”

 

“Ouch, no good. Hey I have a question for you, but I want to get some paperwork together first. Want to meet for dinner at The Robber? Say..7?” Scully called out the doorway. 

 

Jane’s head appeared in the doorway, “Sure. Everything okay?” 

 

“Yes! I just need to run something by you! I’ll be there!”

  
  
  


Scully walked into the Robber and set her tote down in one of the booths. Now a regular, she looked at the bartender and threw up two fingers. When he mouthed “Fried pickles?” back to her, she gave him a thumbs up. It was nice to be a regular somewhere, to be settled. For years after they’d left the Bureau, she and Mulder spent only days in towns - never knowing anyone or anything there. Even when they’d settled when she taught at Quantico, she didn’t go out. Every moment of her time was dedicated to William and then Mulder. She’d spent years caring for others, and when it came time for someone to care for her...she’d just forgotten how. She couldn’t let anyone care for her, even Mulder. 

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jane, still in her work clothes, plopped down across from her. 

 

“With inflation since the last time anyone’s said that, I’m thinking that it’s more around a quarter for my thoughts.” 

 

“Damn, you’re expensive!” Jane cried out, throwing her hands up in the air. 

 

Scully laughed at the banter and pulled her tote up from beside her. Jane took a seat and made a vague hand gesture at the bar. Soon two beers and the pickles appeared on the table in between them. 

 

“So, I got this in the mail yesterday and I’ve been trying to find a good time to tell you. But, I realized that there really isn’t one. So, I figure I would break it to you easily.”

 

Jane stopped mid-bite and looked up at her. The normally animated Detective looked stony, like she was preparing for horrible news. She dropped the half-eaten pickle back in the basket and wiped her hands on her pants.

 

Scully pulled out a manilla envelope with neaty manuscript on the cover, addressed to her. She pulled out the paperwork and showed Jane a form. After reading it for a few minutes Jane handed it back to her and looked absolutely perplexed. 

 

“Maura’s coming back?”

 

“Her sabbatical expires at the end of when her rotation as Medical Examiner would end. She’s nearing the four year mark and needed to inform the Commonwealth of her decision. I don’t know what that means for you personally. But, she did include an envelope with your name on it. You obviously can wait until later to read it but-”

 

“-Nah, can’t wait. Gimme!” Jane grappled for the envelope and pulled out the sheets of paper and a photo. 

 

Scully excused herself to the restroom to give her friend space during this vulnerable time. Once inside the bathroom, she went into the last stall and locked the door. Soon, the tears started to fall. Loud sobs echoed off the walls and Scully wiped at mascara stained cheeks.

 

She was jealous.

 

She was jealous that Jane would have Maura back and even if they were platonic, she would still get to see the love of her life everyday. Scully missed Mulder so badly that it physically hurt her. She still woke up every morning alone, and it was taking it’s toll on her. Scully was thriving in her career, and happy in her home. But, for someone who grew up with a large family and a smattering of good friends, Scully was lonely. Even when she was with on the run with Mulder it wasn’t so bad because she could always call her mom. Now she had two estranged brothers and a child she’d only just seen on television. 

 

After a few more moments of grief, Scully stood and exited the stall. With a quick stop to clear the makeup smears on her face and to apply her mascara again, Scully took a deep breath and went back out into the bar. 

 

She moved cautiously, to see if Jane was doing alright. The Detective was at the bar grabbing more beers, with her back turned to Scully so she sat tight and waited. She looked over and recognized the neat script with the signatures on all of the files she’d read when she was introduced to BPD. 

 

When Jane sat back down she shoved another beer at Scully, who accepted it gratefully. Seemingly exhausted, Jane took a long drink and set it down on the table a little too hard. She looked as if she was about to say something so Scully sat still and waited patiently. 

 

“Maura’s coming back.” It was quiet, but Jane looked up at Scully and continued, “To work and to me. She’s...she’s. I can’t.” Jane’s face crumbled and she let out a sob. 

 

Scully jumped up and sat next to her friend on her side of the booth and put her arms around her. Soon they were both sniffling hiccuping. Scully released her hold on her friend and moved back to her spot. They looked at each other, taking in how ridiculous the other one look and burst out laughing. 

 

“She sent me a photo by the way, you’ll flip when you see it.” Jane teased with a thick voice. 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“She met a guy in New York, where she’s been staying. She said that he reminds her of me, and that they’re ‘besties’. It’s really cute. Plus, I missed Jo Friday.”

 

“Like from Dragnet?” Scully questioned.

 

“No, silly. My dog! Maura took my dog with her as a companion. It’s why I have her tortoise. Jo is much easier to transport than an 80lb turtle with a bad attitude.” 

 

“So let me see this picture!” Scully exclaimed. Jane’s happiness was starting to rub off onto her. 

 

“Look, it’s Maura...and Mulder!”

 

Scully gasped and grabbed the 3x5 photo. Given the quality and angle, Mulder was obviously holding the camera. 

 

Maura looked radiant, tanned and happy, with a tiny curly haired puppy on her hip and a hand in the air waving. Mulder looked good,  _ really good. _ His tanned face was happy, and for the first time in a very long time it didn’t look forced. His hair was turning gray at the roots, and he looked so...calm. New York had obviously treated him kindly. However, just seeing his face made Scully’s heart sink impossibly low. She handed it back to Jane, who looked it over some more. 

 

“The letter said they took it just for this. It was Mulder’s idea. She also said he’s writing a book.”

 

Scully smiled at her friend. “When is she coming back?”

 

“Well, she submitted the paperwork to you, finalizing her return. Since no one ever runs against her, and the election is in October. I think she’s coming back to Boston in September but not starting again until right around Thanksgiving.”

 

“That’s strange, do you have any idea why? I would think she would come back and want to work.”

 

“Does this affect your schedule? I know it’s really stressful for you right now.” Jane offered. 

 

“No, not really. The assistant I have right now is going on maternity leave in September. I’ll talk to the Governor to see if I can just fill that position when she’s back. From the looks of things, she was a great person to work for.”

 

“She was hard to work with at first.” Jane laughed and continued with a smile, “But, Maura does everything for a reason, personal and professional. Science and reason are her version of ‘heads or tails’. Just like someone I know!”

 

Scully feigned innocence, “I have no idea what you’re suggesting Detective.”

 

“Here,” Jane handed her the photo again. “You keep it. I’ll see her soon enough. She said she has to clear up some loose ends and finish editing Mulder’s drafts and she’ll fly back.”

 

“I’m so happy for you Jane,” Scully said as they cleaned up their mess on the table. 

 

“I can’t believe I get a second chance. These things don’t happen to me usually. I refuse to waste it either. Also, I’m fairly certain you’ll get your chance at happiness here soon too.”

 

“I hope so Jane, I really hope so.”

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are in the final arc. I'm hoping to wrap this up in 30 or so chapters :)

“Mulder.”

 

“Fox. You sound like shit.”

 

“Who’s this?”

 

“Oh darling, how you’ve forgotten so quickly?”

 

“Stella?”

 

“Ah, I see you’re remembering. Did I wake you?”

 

“It’s five-thirty in the morning, Stella. Everyone should be sleeping here in the US. What do you need?”

 

“I need to see you, Fox.”

 

“Weren’t you in Belfast?”

 

“I’m in the states for a day. I have a story to tell you.”

 

“Where are you?”

 

“At the moment? I’m sneaking out of my hotel room. Can we meet for a coffee?”

 

“Do you know where I am?”

 

“No, but I know you’ll tell me soon. I’ll wait for your message.”

 

Mulder groaned and slid the smartphone under his pillow. It was too early to think about his past mistakes and the women connected to them. Honestly, it was too early to do anything. 

 

At seven-thirty he woke again, much more alert than earlier. He sent Stella the address for the diner and waited for her response. He set the phone down and stood up, stretching in a feline manner. A drop of water from the ceiling landed on his head and he cursed. They were the middle apartment and it was not raining. Just to be safe, he grabbed his laptop and writing bag and slung them both over his shoulder. 

 

He could already tell that today was going to be trying, so he might as well just roll with it. He’d emailed his first draft to Maura and was in the process of waiting now.

 

 

The diner was different during the day. Instead of the skeleton crowd, it was filled with a smattering of regulars - mostly retired workers and a few fisherman. Lots of “Back in the day” and “Do you remember when?” conversations floating around. It was almost picturesque to see all the older men lined up at the diner with matching Dickey’s workpants and suspenders. They all ate their pie and coffee in unison. It seemed ridiculous but Mulder hoped some day he could settle down enough to have something similar. 

 

When Stella entered the diner, heads turned. Not even because she wore garment far too nice for the shoddy establishment, but because she walked with such  _ poise _ that it was intimidating. She commanded attention but chastised those who were caught staring. After she sat down in the booth across from him, the patrons went back to their conversation but never really took their eyes off of her.

 

“Fox.” Stella gave him a curt nod as she sat and tucked her skirt in under her legs. 

 

“Stella.” Mulder nodded back. It felt strange to be a booth with someone who wasn’t Maura or Scully. 

 

“Whats brings you to New York?”

 

“Well,” Stella started. “It wasn’t Jolly Ranchers.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Stella laid her hands on the marble table. “I came to talk about your son.”

 

Mulder inhaled sharply, “William? Why would we be-”

 

“Fox, I’ve been sent to you.”

 

Mulder exhaled slowly through his teeth. It all made sense now.

 

“Skinner sent you?” When she nodded, Mulder continued, “How do you two know each other?”

 

“Who do you think I called to verify your identity when you punched that man in the pub? Was I just to believe that you were some sort of misguided Federal Agent?”

 

“That it? Nothing more?”

 

“No, Fox. That is it. I do not know much else other than your son is being guarded by your friend Gibson - posing under the name George Hale. I was brought here by your former boss to warn you to stay put until he goes to the final round in Washington D.C. in November.” Stella gave the waitress a warm smile as she set the coffee down in front of her. “I have a disdain for American coffee, but I am dreadfully exhausted.”

 

“You were staying in Boston?” Mulder asked. 

 

“Yes. I still technically am. I leave tomorrow.” Stella’s face crumpled as she sipped her beverage. 

 

“So, you’ve seen Scully?”

 

Stella’s eyes widened and her pale skin flushed a shade of salmon that Mulder was not accustomed to seeing on her. Her mouth opened and shut a few times as if she was trying to breathe underwater. In the few times he’d seen her, Mulder had never seen Stella Gibson without a quick response. 

 

After a few seconds Stella spoke, “Yes. Yes I have. She is well.”

 

“You told her about William?”

 

“I have, yes.”

 

Mulder pursed his lips, irritated at Stella’s lack of information. “You’re being awfully secretive for someone who was sent to tell me things. What are you hiding?” 

 

Stella pushed away the cup and saucer and raised herself off the bench. She leaned over the table, nearly touching Mulder’s face with her own. 

 

“I’m not sure it’s your business, honestly. You left her Fox. Dana Scully is the type of woman that people fall for the minute they meet her.  Everyone falls in love with her and you left her.”

 

Stella’s words made Mulder’s heart plummet, “Did  _ you _ ?”

 

“Did I what?” 

 

“Fall for her?” Mulder spat. His nerves were on edge and he could feel a panic attack brewing in the back of his mind. There was little on this earth that he was sensitive over but Dana Scully was definitely a tender spot. Maybe it was guilt over leaving or the possessive nature of his youth, but the idea of Scully with anyone else was not a good one for him. 

 

“No, I did not fall in love with her.”

 

“O-kay.” Mulder said slowly. “Then why mention it?”

 

“But if I’d stayed the night, I certainly would have.”

 

“You…-”

 

“Slept together? Banged? Fucked? Yes, Fox, yes we did. And you do not get to punish her for that. So before you spit some pseudo masculine shit about promiscuity and ownership, just know that she was of sound mind and body. She gets to choose what she does with her life because you extracted yourself from hers. This conversation is over. I don’t know  _ why _ I agreed to do this.”

 

Stella stood and walked out of the diner with purpose, her heels punctuating her steps. When the door swung shut, the patrons all turned to look at him. 

 

Mulder just gave them a look and tossed a ten on the table. He stomped out and sat on the ledge of the little garden out front. He thought about chasing Stella, but he wasn’t really fit to see anyone right now. 

 

Stella had slept with Scully. 

 

Scully had slept with Stella.

 

Either way Mulder was upset, mostly at himself. He knew that he did not have the right to be jealous, but he was. He could not abandon Scully in the middle of the day with no note and expect her to just take up celibacy until he decided to return, if he returned. Still, it hurt. She’d been by his side for years and he’d practically devoted his life to her, so this indiscretion was something that would take time for him to process. For two people that were borderline codependent, they had sure strayed far from their vows all those years ago. 

 

Honestly, he was also a little jealous. Despite the occasional offer, Mulder had turned down every sexual invitation he’d gotten while in the Big Apple. Which, wasn’t too many but it  _ was _ enough to keep his pride afloat. It wasn’t like women were throwing themselves at him. But, Mulder just didn’t want to be intimate with anyone else. Maybe he still considered Scully to be his wife? That wasn’t fair to her though. He couldn’t have it both ways, but goddamn this stung.

 

 

His phone rang and he grumbled at the caller. He did not want to talk to Jerry right now. 

 

“Hello?”

 

“Mulder! We got a problem.” Jerry sounded panicked. 

 

“What’s going on?” Mulder jumped up from his stone seat and started to run towards his apartment. 

 

“The ceiling, it fucking collapsed. Everything is soaked! We pay twenty-two fuckin K a year and now it’s a goddamned swimming pool.”

 

The information wasn’t a surprise to Mulder, which is why he’d packed his manuscript, journal, and computer in his bag. Granted, his clothes would either need washed or thrown out completely. But, those were just material possessions and they could be replaced easily. Mulder finished his sprint to his building and stood outside for a moment, taking in the whole scene. 

 

Jerry, clad only in soaking wet boxer briefs was yelling at the building Super, who looked like he’d started drinking at 10am yesterday. Water was spilling out of the front door and flooding the sidewalk all the way into the street. After a particularly loud groan and the sound of more water rushing, a stream of mud colored water along with every loose piece of clothing on Mulder’s floor came rushing out and eventually disappeared in the storm drain on the side of the curb. It would be perplexing if it wasn’t so comedic. 

 

“Hey, hey!” Mulder called to the squabbling men. “Fighting isn’t helping the pipes. Did anyone shut the water off?”

 

“I tried to tell this dumbass to do that, but he said that the valve is in the basement and he ain’t goin down there!” Jerry waved his hands to the man across from him. 

 

“Man there’s rats the size of toddlers down there. I aint doin shit til animal control gets here!”

 

“You called animal control?” Jerry yelled again. 

 

Before the Super could answer, Mulder stepped between them and pushed them apart. 

 

“Jerry, I hate to do this to you man. But, this is the final straw. I’m done. I’m leaving.” 

 

“You’re leaving me? Why man? I thought we were a forever thing?” Jerry dropped his hands and looked at him. 

 

“Wait, are you two..?” the Super asked.

 

“Uh no. But, I am leaving. I think you can overlook me breaking my lease because of this fucking flood happening, alright?” Mulder smiled tightly at the man. 

 

“Ah, sound good okay. Will you be needing anything inside?”

 

“No, I’m good. I have everything.” Mulder turned away from the Super and back to Jerry.

 

“Jerry, my dude. Thanks for being a good friend but I gotta go back.”

 

The Lawyer looked confused for a moment, “To the diner?”

 

“No,” Mulder chuckled. “To Boston.”


	25. Chapter 25

Ever since early childhood, the sounds of bagpipes had soothed Scully. Whether it was on the various naval bases they’d lived on or during the Memorial Day parades throughout the years, something about the tone and regality of the instrument made her feel safe. It was a feeling she felt less and less as she’d aged: safety. When she first began her life on the X-Files she had no idea what horrors life could hold. Then as she grew older and closer to Mulder, she started to know safety at the hands of another. Over time this had become a constant her life. However, after all the recent events in her life, it was nice to feel secure again. 

 

Granted, the fact that she was surrounded by almost 1000 police officers made her feel safe too. It was Boston Police Department’s annual Independence Day picnic and Scully was actually having fun. She had really tried her best to warm up the people who worked with and around her every day. It was a different atmosphere than back in the Bureau; to have coworkers that smiled in the hallway instead of whispering. To have a team to delegate to instead of doing all the work in secrecy.  

 

The sun was warm but it wasn’t humid - a perfect day for eating outside. Over 20 grills were lined up in the field behind BPD. The training field that was normally littered with training recruits and officers taking PT tests, was filled with raucous laughter and coolers packed with cheap beer. The test dummies had been pushed aside and each one had a photo of a department head taped to the face. Later they’d be used in a game of “Pin the Brass on the Cop”. 

 

Scully didn’t really enjoy partaking in any games, she just wasn’t the type. However, her “date” was currently holding a baseball looking determined as she focused on the bullseye ten feet in front of her. Inside the dunk tank was Frankie Rizzoli, wearing only a pair of hot pink swim trunks. A few people had tried to dunk him, but alas he still sat on his podium smug and dry. 

 

Jane threw the first ball and clipped the edge of the target, making the paddle wobble back and forth. The loud noise made everyone nearby stop and stare at the two siblings, who at the moment were exchanging taunts. 

 

“Jane, if you dunk me I’m telling everyone about the time you pooped your pants at Chuck-e-Cheese!”

 

“You tell that story and I’ll make sure everyone at BPD sees your senior photo!” Jane taunted, her eyebrows raised. 

 

Scully just smiled at the pair. It was cute. She missed her brothers, especially Charlie. But, after their mother had passed it had been radio silence from the Scully men. She tried not to dwell on it, the fact that everyone she’d ever loved had either abandoned her or been killed. Some days it was hard. Sometimes, she felt the love of her friends and their families so much that it dulled the ache a bit. Fall and winter were the worst, with Mulder’s birthday and the haunting memory of Emily. But, as time went on she’d gotten better at coping with her losses. 

 

A warm hand landed on her shoulder. Scully turned around to see Angela Rizzoli with a content look on her face. 

 

“When they get competitive like this, they usually end up wrestling. My bet’s on Jane this time. Don’t tell Frankie I said that though, he’s a little sensitive to it.” 

 

Scully laughed silently, her shoulders bouncing. She decided to let go of the daunting memories a little bit and just focus on the scene in front of her. 

 

“If you dunk me Janie I swear I will tell everyone what I found in your underwear dra-” Frankie’s sentence was cut off as Jane hit the target. 

 

The crowd was silent for a moment as Frankie plummeted into the cold water. Jane jumped up and down and did youthful dance. Soon she morphed into some sort of touchdown dance and Scully knew it was time for an intervention before Jane pulled a muscle or something. 

 

“Jane!” she called. 

 

“Didja see that? I NAILED it! Boom! Right in the kisser!” Jane punched the air a few times. “I hope someone got that on camera.”

 

“You did great! And all the money goes to charity, so I won’t yell at you for spending $5 a ball.” Scully laughed and handed Jane a beer. They stood there for a moment, sipping from their bottles and watching the mass amount of people around them. 

 

“Do you ever play baseball?” Jane asked, breaking the silence and motioned for them to walk. They moved away from the dunk tank and took and walked around the field. 

 

“I played in school but only sporadically after.” Scully smiled at the memory of the impromptu baseball lesson from Mulder. “I wasn’t very good once we graduated from Tee ball to an actual softball, but Mulder was a big fan. He taught me ‘hips before hands’.”

 

“He’s a Yankess fan I’ll bet,” Jane said with an eyeroll. When Scully nodded she added, “Figures. Gross.”

 

“I assume the Yankees are the Red Sox’s mortal enemies?”

 

Jane’s eyes went wide and she nodded. “Something like that. I can’t believe you married a Yankees fan!” 

 

“Hey now, at least I made it to marriage,” Scully raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side.

 

Jane was quiet for moment Scully began to worry she’d gone too far. But, after a moment the Detective released a hearty howl that was contagious. “Ouch, asshole. That was good! You’ve been with the Rizzoli’s too long!”

 

“Well, you could prove me wrong by actually making it work with Maura again.” Scully said.

 

“I guess I could. Anyway, did I ever tell you about the year that Maura played as a sub on the BPD Co-Ed softball team? Because of her we won every game that year. Set a precinct record!”

 

“She was that good? You’ve often described her as ‘coordinated, yet clueless’ when it comes to sports”

 

“Not quite,” Jane laughed and opened a can of beer. “She wore this skin-tight wind suit and everyone on the opposite team was so distracted by her that they forgot how to play or something. Plus she gave us tips on where to hit based upon wind patterns or somethin’.” 

 

Scully laughed at the imagery presented to her. 

 

“So, when is she coming back? Did you get an exact date?” 

 

“Yeah! She flies in on July 31st.” Jane looked down. 

 

“Have you been talking again?” Scully asked with a smile. She could see Jane trying to hide her excitement and giddiness. “I can’t believe that’s only three weeks away!”

 

“We’ve been Skyping a lot. It’s been good for us. I think our problem was that since we met at work, we had a hard time separating personal and professional. We never really dated, we didn’t need to! I’d worked with her for years. I was her best friend. But, being best friends is one thing. Being a spouse is way different.” Jane took a long drink of her beer. “I’m actually so excited, I can’t explain it.”

 

“I understand all too well,” Scully said. “When Mulder and I started seeing each other, we were pretty much already committed to each other minus the physical contact. It didn’t help that everyone already assumed we were sleeping together long before we actually were.”

 

“Same! I think it took us so long because we were so busy trying to combat the rumors that we didn’t even think about what could happen if everyone was right. We just assumed we were incompatible, and I assumed she was straight!”

 

“Well, Jane, I can assure you that you’re going to get your happy ending. Also, I want to Skype with her soon so I can thank her for the meticulous notes she left. Oh, and for the candy drawer too.”

 

“Not for the photo of Mulder? I seriously can’t believe they met like that.”

 

“I agree, the chances of that happening are highly improbable. I think had she and I met under different circumstances, we’d be good friends as well. You’d love Mulder too!”

 

“I doubt it, I can smell a Yankees fan a mile away.” They shared a laugh at that. 

 

The sun was going down and the crowd was gathering towards the far end of the field. There was a makeshift shelter at the end where Vince Korsak stood with the Fire Marshall. Scully waved at Jane’s partner and smiled when he waved back. They decided to follow the crowd and after a few minutes, found an empty picnic table facing the shelter.

 

“This is good spot for fireworks.” Jane observed. 

 

“I agree. Want another beer?” Scully dug in one of the coolers and came up empty sans a blue can. “All they’ve got are cans of Bud Light.”

 

“I’ll take it. It’s free so I won’t be  _ too _ picky.” Jane huffed dramatically.  “Listen, ah, I’m really happy, Dana. Like, happier than I’ve ever been. I have you to thank for that too.”

 

It took a moment for Scully to reply, mostly because she could feel herself getting emotional. “That came out of nowhere. What makes you say that?”

 

“Because last year, I got down one knee and asked Maura to marry me during the finale. Honestly, the memories don’t hurt anymore because she’s coming home. I was working myself to death when we started talking and honestly I don’t think I would have made it much longer. I owe a lot of that to you. I hope you’re happy too.” Jane grabbed her hands and squeezed tightly.

 

Scully exhaled slowly, “I think that in time I will be happy too. I do.”

 

“Do you think Mulder will come back?” Jane asked. 

 

Scully looked to the heavens, willing tears not to fall. “I’m not sure. He still hasn’t contacted me. But, I think I’m coming to terms with it.” 

 

“You sure? I don’t want to pour salt in the wound with the Maura thing.”  

 

“No, please continue with your joy - it’s contagious. You are now one of my best friends and I cannot wait until you see Maura again.” 

 

The fireworks started up and they both focused their attention on the sky. Sometime during the display, Scully’s head landed on Jane’s shoulder and Jane’s arm ended up around her neck. They stayed like that for the rest of the night; two friends seeking safety and comfort in each other. 

 


	26. Chapter 26

Mulder loved the sun. 

 

Not the 124 degree heat he’d dealt with when he was hiding in New Mexico almost 15 years ago. But, the feeling of the sun on his face and the vitamin D that he had deprived himself of when he’d been too afraid to leave the basement. So, whenever it was sunny in the city, he walked everywhere and did as much as he could. He’d been to the beach multiple times, so often in fact that he was much darker and fitter than he’d been in previous years. Sometimes he went on jogs, although his aging body was protesting more and more as time went on. 

 

So, today he had chained his bike to a rack and decided to walk as much of Central Park that he could. Maura had messaged him and said she was finished packing and could use a good distraction, so he’d invited her along as well. Plus, she was bringing Jo Friday so that made Mulder even more excited to see his friend. It felt weird to be saying goodbye to someone he very likely would meet again. Plus, they hadn’t really known each other for more than 6 months. But, sometimes you meet people at the worst times and become the best of friends. 

 

He checked his phone while he waited. An independent publishing company that Maura had contacted was very interested in his book and had promised a quick response to his manuscript. He’d finished it, gotten the okay from Maura, and sent it in for a final review within the same week. It was strange to think that soon he could tell people that he was a writer instead of sidestepping the question with a generic “I used to work for the FBI” answer. His release date was set for early December and Skinner had even sent them a bunch of photos to use for the cover. When he’d seen them he truly realized just how much he’d changed since that ridiculous basement office consumed his life. He didn’t have high expectations for his book, but it was about time he’d focused on something with purpose. Besides, if even one person could be convinced of the horrible truths that the Federal Government was guilty of, it made everything worth it. All of it: his father’s murder, his mother’s indiscretion, Melissa Scully’s demise along with Emily’s tragic life.

 

He’d also been thinking about Scully. Well, he always thought about her but moreso he’d been thinking about how and when he should go back. He’d made the decision hastily when his apartment flooded but actually acting on that promise was proving difficult. Truth be told he’d only been gone six months but it truly felt like years. So much had happened since he’d left that he didn’t even know if Scully would still love him. 

 

“Is this seat taken?” Mulder jumped at the voice. He turned to face Maura and smiled. She looked like she was ready for the derby. He’d never understood how she could work long hours in heels and a dress. She’d explained it all to him and even shown him photos of her job in Boston. Once he’d realized that Scully had done that and chased after perps, his respect for that entire gender had multiplied profusely. 

 

“Sorry for the delay, Jo doesn’t like car rides so I had to make a few stops. Most dogs equate travelling with being nauseous due to Vet visits so they-”

 

“I get it, Maura. Thank you.” Mulder chuckled.

 

“Sorry, I ramble when I’m nervous. Old habit.” Maura sighed and pulled at the large-brimmed hat she wore. “Jane used to call me ‘Googlemouth’.”

 

“I think it’s endearing, truly. What’s making you nervous?” Mulder patted the space next to him and smiled when Maura and Jo sat down next to him. 

 

“Jane. I’m leaving for Boston in 15 hours, Mulder. We’ve talked on Skype every night since I sent that letter but I’m just so scared to see her. It’s irrational, I know. I was planning on going back in September but I bumped it up to July because I miss her so much.” Maura wrung her hands.

 

“Would it make you feel better to have a travelling companion?” Mulder asked.

 

“Jo Friday? She’s my carry-on.”

 

“No, me?”

 

“You? You want to go to Boston with me?” Maura’s eyes were wide but Mulder swore he could see a smile in there somewhere. 

 

“I think I do. It’s time for me to go back. The City’s been good to me but it’s time for me to go home.”

 

“Well!” Maura jumped up, startling Mulder and Jo. “This calls for a celebration!”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Street tacos! I never let myself eat them due to their high amounts of sodium but I think today is special. Besides, I might be able to eat from a truck in Central Park ever again since I’m - we’re leaving soon!”

 

Mulder laughed at the sheer joy on his friends face. Her eyes were sparkling as she grabbed at her hat while the wind blew. Jo Friday was still sitting on a bench. He could see how people were jealous of Maura. She was brilliant and beautiful, but most of all she was appreciative of the small things in life. Some of her most endearing qualities were a lot of the reasons he’d fallen in love with Scully. Sometimes he needed a reminder that simple things could bring happiness as well. Back when he and Scully would celebrate after a case, their outings seemed like a reward. There was just something about sharing a meal with someone you loved and appreciated. 

 

As they walked around the park, Mulder was reminded of all the times he and Scully would relax after their cases. After a week of risking their lives, they would always take a day on the Bureau’s dime to decompress and eat at some of the most podunk establishments the USA had to offer. 

 

Jo barked and Mulder looked to see her and Maura waiting patiently and looking at him pointedly. 

 

“Come on, Mulder. We only have 12.6 hours left until we have to be at the airport.” Maura used a fake voice and lifted the dog’s paws as if Jo was talking to him. 

 

“Well, Jo Friday, you’re very impatient for a dog that takes an hour to pee.” Mulder shot back. 

 

“Oh, that was a low blow. Wasn’t it Jo?” Maura faced her dog.

 

Jo barked in response. 

 

Later, after walking through the Conservatory Garden and the Zoo, they were walking towards the large carousel and Maura’s eyes lit up. 

 

“It’s beautiful.” she whispered. 

 

Mulder had to agree. The sun was low in the sky and the bright lights of the machine illuminated everyone’s faces with a myriad of stained glass colors. 

 

“Ever been on one?” He asked Maura. 

 

She shook her head slowly, “No, I wasn’t around any as a child and even as an adult the amount of bacteria alone on the -”

 

“Let’s go!” Mulder scooped up Jo and got in line. “Forget about bacteria for just a minute. Live a little.”

 

“I’m not sure. I have Jo to watch and-”

 

“Nope. I’ll hold her. She’s pretty tired anyway. Come on. I’ll even let you purell the bench.”

 

Maura seemed to ponder that for a moment. Mulder tried his best to look like a sad puppy and smiled brightly when she eventually nodded. When she walked over to him, she grabbed his hand and squeezed. 

 

“Thank you, Fox.”

 

Mulder raised his eyebrows at his first name. “What for?”

 

“I’m not very articulate when it comes to human emotions but you’ve been nothing by helpful and supportive of me since we met. What would have happened if I’d never been eavesdropping on you back at the diner. What we would have missed? I know that I’m odd and not like most people, but I do think I’ve come ages from the Maura who was cold and uncaring.”

 

“I think you’re articulate in your own way, Maura. Just because you may have missed a lot growing up, doesn’t mean you’re somehow defective now. You’re so generous and caring, especially since I know that I’m not exactly easy to be friends with. Besides, we both have hot ladyfriends in Boston so maybe we’re more alike than you think.” Mulder said with a wink and a nod. 

 

Maura seemed stunned for a moment. “That’s so sweet. I’m actually getting emotional.” 

 

Mulder clapped her on the shoulder. “C’mon friend, let’s go stew in bacteria.”

 

Maura laughed at that. Mulder handed the worker the money and they loaded themselves into one of the benches. Jo seemed to not care as she curled up on Mulder’s lap and fell asleep. Mulder relaxed once the ride started moving and turned his focus onto Maura who was staring out into the crowd with watery eyes. It was a picturesque sight, especially as the sun went down. It was a good way to bid farewell to the city and surrounding area that had housed him for so long. He’d had his fun and his spiritual healing but goddamn it was time to go home.

  
  



	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all. I’m so sorry about the delay! I have had a super busy month with no free time. So, I split this chapter into two. I’m going to try my hardest to get into the swing of things again. Thanks for being patient!

 

  
  
  


“Are you nervous?”

 

Jane looked up at Scully with watery eyes. It was obvious that the normally composed Detective was a mess. She’d tried to help Jane out by offering to be her escort to the airport but Scully was starting to think that maybe this wasn’t a good idea. She was trying her damndest to control her jealousy over the situation, but couldn’t help the twinges of resentment that permeated through her supportive demeanor occasionally. They’d only been sitting in the crowded airport for an hour, but already Scully’s anxiety was through the roof. 

 

It wasn’t that she wasn’t over the moon to see her friend and coworker happy again, it was that they’d bonded over how shitty their love lives were and although that was quite a bit ago, Scully was unsure that they’d be as close after Maura came back. But, today those thoughts did not matter because she was here to be a supportive best friend and best friends didn’t get upset over trivial things like that. They did, however, not complain when asked to go to the airport at 5am - three hours before the flight’s landing time. Jane’s quirks were far and few, and the detective had surely accommodated her strange habits so Scully could definitely handle this. 

 

“I’m gonna see her today.” was all the Jane said. It was quiet - just above a whisper - and almost unintelligible it the hectic airport. It was the end of the holiday weekend and there were many tourists looking lost around Logan. More than a few times they’d been bumped into by luggage and the stray behind of a passerby. What was worrying was the lack of response from Jane. On any other day the short tempered Rizzoli would have made her discomfort known after the first encounter. But, today she’d hardly even looked at the people that crossed her path. Scully knew that not paying attention to surroundings was the number one way to get yourself killed in the field. 

 

The plan was loosely set - something Scully loathed but once again, it was not her day. It was hard to remember that not everyone wanted to micromanage their schedules. Honestly, she was lucky that Jane even made an itinerary. First, they’d drop Maura’s luggage off at her home, then they’d go to BPD where Maura had a few forms to sign, then a big Sunday night dinner at her home, cooked by none other than Angela Rizzoli. Scully did find it strange that Maura’s coming home party would be in her own home, but very rarely did social expectations fit the Rizzoli family. Plus Maura had teased Jane with a “surprise” and that had a potential to throw a wrench in their plans too. 

 

“I’m gonna see Maura today, Dana.” Jane repeated. Her face looked stunned; like she’d been drugged.  

 

“Are you surprised? You look like you don’t believe it.” Scully shuffled on the chrome seats and turned herself so she was cross legged in the chair facing her friend. Nervously she picked at the hem of her old FBI t-shirt, dropping the threads onto the carpet beneath them. 

 

Jane drummed her fingers on the metallic surface of the chairs. “I just never thought this would happen. I had accepted the fact that I had ruined the only real relationship I’ve ever had. Like, when she first asked me out I almost said no to her based purely on the fact that I was scared she’d get to see the non-Detective Jane Rizzoli and lose all respect for me.”

 

“I understand actually,” Scully admitted. “I refused to act on my feelings with Mulder because I knew his ‘type’ and I was the opposite. I was a short, pale redhead with an affliction for science and an odd obsession with debunking him. I knew my family didn’t like him, and that all the more made me think that we just weren’t meant to be together.”

 

“Well Dana,” Jane sniffled. “I know he loves you, even though you are separated right now. Who else would send you journals overnight during a blizzard?”

 

“You think?” Scully asked with a touch of vulnerability..

 

Jane blew a chunk of hair out of her face and nodded, “I know.” 

  
  


“Are you nervous?”

 

“Quite.”

 

Mulder smiled and squeezed Maura’s shoulder, eliciting a soft sigh from his best friend. She’d fallen asleep on the carousel last night and Mulder didn’t have the heart to wake her. Once he’d paid the guy for three trips, the employee just waved him off and let them ride until almost midnight. The park goers might have thought it to be romantic, but really Mulder just knew how precious feeling safe was. For years during his dark years, the feeling of safety was fleeting.

 

“Fox, I’m going to see her again. I can’t explain this feeling. I know approximately 65,000 words but I can’t think of any right now.” Maura flipped her large sunglasses up and laid back in her seat. 

 

“Squiggly.” Mulder offered. 

 

“That’s definitely not a word,” Maura murmured with a look. “You’re being facetious.”

 

“Yes it is. You get the squiggles when you’re nervous, therefore you’re squiggly.”

 

“Is that one of the terms you discovered on your ill-fated quest to discover reticulans in the basement of the hoover building?”

 

Mulder chuckled, “No, actually. I learned it from Scully. It was a term she’d taught me when she was going through chemo. She said it made her squiggly.” 

 

“Noted. I’ll accept it’s validity I suppose since it’s from a credited source.” Maura smiled behind her sunglasses. “I’m too tired to sleep. It’s all your fault for letting me sleep on that ride, I don’t think my spinal cord with recover from being in that position for three hours.”

 

“Don’t thank me, thank Mikey the attendant. He thought you were cute so he kept us going for free after the third ride. It’s not my fault that Jo Friday didn’t want to get off of my lap.”

 

“How sweet of Mikey. I’ll be sure to bill him for my physical therapy.”

 

“Now who’s being facetious?”

 

Maura didn’t answer him but she did squeeze his shoulder in response. Mulder could see his friends hands shaking - something that was very strange considering that as a Medical Examiner she needed precision and steady hands. If she was this nervous, why wasn’t he? He was the one coming back to his soulmate without notice after he’d packed up his things and left. So much had happened in the half year that he’d been gone. 

 

Mulder’s eyes started to close as the lull of the plane rocked him to sleep. He’d kept up a comical front but inside he was petrified of what would happen when he came home. Given what Stella had told him, Scully was paving her life as a professional single woman. Honestly? He didn’t want to ruin that; she’d spent so long caring for him that she’d never truly gotten a chance to thrive in the work force. Was it selfish of him to return? Only time would tell. Memories of their first flight to Oregon played in his mind like a silent film. His heart ached to the point where he almost slipped into a panic attack. 

 

Her cherub face and round glasses pouring over notes in a manilla folder. A hand darting out to grab his during turbulence. The nine missing minutes in the car. 

 

The 8 or so months he was gone. Those months and the birth of his son were all stolen from him.

 

The 5 years or so that he didn’t try to remember. Dark times in the den, his only grip on reality were the dates on newspapers. More time missing. 

 

The six months he spent away from Scully, this time on his terms. 

 

If he’d chosen this, why did he feel as if he was robbed of more time. 

 

He would find out soon. 

 

“How much longer?” Jane whispered for the third time in the last half hour.

 

Normally Scully would snap at the persistent bothering, but one look at her friend made her sympathize. Jane’s left leg was bouncing nervously - something that she rarely did. Scully laid a warm hand on the bony kneecap that wouldn’t sit still. 

 

“Her flight lands in 10 minutes. The board says they’re on time too. Just take deep breaths. You don’t want to reunite with Maura in the infirmary of Logan do you?”

 

“No, I just can’t calm down. I’m too nervous.” More whispers. 

 

“Come on, we’re going to take a walk.” Scully stood and grabbed the wide-eyed Detective up with her. 

 

“But, Mau-”

 

“Nope. I’m not listening. We are going on a brief walk and we’ll be right back. Okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

Scully walked towards the vending machines and swiped her card to get two waters and two Kind bars. She offered one of each to Jane, who looked as if she was going to refuse until she made eye contact with Scully and accepted her goods quickly. 

 

“Tell me about the first time you met. I don’t think I’ve heard that one yet.” Scully asked as they walked around the waited area for their airline. 

 

“The first time we met? Well, it wasn’t really romantic, but we met over a body.”

 

“Of course you did!” Scully laughed. “Okay, tell me more!”

 

“Well, Dr. Pike - the idiot we had before her - was actually being held in contempt for being racist during a trial he was testifying in. The Governor had apparently been holding the spot open for her for a bit of time. All I know is that I showed up to a murder case and saw her. I swear on my baseball cards that I had thought we were getting another old guy. When Frost and I showed up with Korsak, we all stopped at once when we saw her. I swear, Dana. We all stopped to just look at her. She was wearing all black and look absolutely petrified of us.”

 

“She was scared? Wasn’t she standing over a dead body?”

 

“Maura’s...not really scared of death. She actually is comfortable around cadavers. It’s the live ones she doesn’t do so hot with. When we were just friends, she’d diagnose the dates she went on and call me at 2 a.m. just heartbroken because she didn’t know how to interact with them. They assume because she’s well dressed, beautiful, and from a family of socialites that she’d charm their pants off. When in reality she just saved their lives from diseases and such.”

 

“That’s familiar.” Scully mused. “Not about the diagnosing, but with the dead people thing.”

 

“Well, when we walked up to her over the body, she stood and looked at all three of us and said something like ‘Thank you for coming to the scene so quickly but could you all step 156 centimeters back - you’re stepping in the crime scene.’ and we knew then that Maura was not your average M.E.”

 

Scully checked the clock behind Jane’s head. Two minutes until Maura landed. 

 

“Alright Jane, let’s get back to the waiting area. I think it’s time.”

 

Scully took a deep breath and walked to the familiar area. As she sat down she thought of Mulder in this same airport only months ago. Had he thought about how often the airport had been remodeled since they’d landed there as lovers so very long ago? Did he look at the chrome of the seats and think of all of the medical torture he’d been put through? Did he read the ticker of the news on the screen and scoff at them for their inaccuracies like he’d done at every airport when they took solace in the tiny basement office?

 

Did he even miss her?

  
  
  



	28. 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry for the delay. I am working three jobs and trying to get out of this rut I've been in. Thanks for your support! Check out my twitter (@kathysuxx) for a playlist I use to set my fic writing mood!

 

Mulder had always loved adventures.

 

Whether it was sneaking out of his bedroom to go capture frogs when he was a child or grabbing a bureau car and driving to Jersey City on a whim; no matter the adventure, Mulder was game. Something about the delicate mix of danger plus the payoff of once-in-a-lifetime experiences just appealed to him. Consequences were always lurking in the back of his mind but they never really bothered him. It probably came from some deep seeded need for attention from childhood, but honestly he didn’t care to know. 

So, once he’d started clearing a path for his partner in the front seat and buying plane tickets for two, he realized that somehow the wanderlust he’d experienced well into his adult life was...different. It wasn’t just the thrill of the unknown crammed in between 80 hour work weeks; it was all about what  _ they  _ were doing. Sometimes they’d to go the beach and dip their feet in the surf. Sometimes they would pick a city they’d never been to and get lost in it for a weekend. Adventures were less about danger and more about enjoying time with someone. It became an event for bonding and less about the morose pity party of self-imposed solitude that Fox Mulder had celebrated for years. 

As their relationship matured these outings slowed, sadly. Mulder, confined to the basement by the Federal Government, hit a monumental low followed by one of the highest points he’d had. All while Scully slowly lowered herself into work and work alone. Sometimes, in the dead of night he’d visualize her being lowered into a shallow grave at the slowest of paces. Those nightmares would result in him waking crying because never in his lifetime did he want to see the love of his life being buried. How she’d survived seeing him die multiple times, Mulder did not know. Seeing someone you live and breathe for, lifeless and still was a image he would not curse on his greatest enemies. It was something he would very likely never get past. 

So, as the adventures stopped, so did his lust for travel. Nevermind the crippling agoraphobia, but if Scully wasn’t there to appreciate it - well - it just wasn’t worth going. Was it a metaphor for their marriage? Probably. But, there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. It wasn’t as if she was incredibly receptive to his constructive criticism. They both had been on defense for years - too fragile to crumble in front of each other. Mulder had been held together by small coping mechanisms and a pure need to enrage every single soul in the Hoover building. Scully had been held by...well, no one knew really; probably the same Scully chutzpah that kept her sane through the 90s. 

Now, after spending many single months in a large city, Fox Mulder could confirm that even in the darkest times, Scully did indeed make everything better. It was terrible that it had come to this, but sometimes a clean break is the easiest to heal. He needed to remember that first and foremost was Fox Mulder and not just “Scully’s husband”.

A soft hand entered his, wrangling his attention to the here and now.

“Ready?” Maura Isles asked him, sounding far less than enthusiastic. 

Mulder inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, clearing his thoughts. Tidbits from his therapy sessions still remained, most importantly the ways to calm his heart rate and panic attacks. He wasn’t exactly the young brute he used to be. His poor heart had taken a beating over the years, nevermind the fact that his body had been through an awful lot over the years. 

Mulder squeezed her hand and nodded. “Let’s go.”

Maura smiled and exhaled slowly. Mulder felt her arms quivering and embraced her. This was big moment for both of them -  the end of their solo adventures, and he was not going to let her down now. 

“Grab Jo, let’s go.” Mulder smiled at his friend. “We have women to see.”

“Yes we do.” 

With a pounding heart and a lump in his throat, Mulder walked with purpose off the plane and onto the chute the lead them to the airport. Every step, every noise of his tennis shoes on cheap aluminum rang in his ears. The cacophony of the airport muted to a dull hum as his vision tunnelled. He refused to panic, he refused to cause a scene. Never in his years did he expect to be this excited to come off of an airplane. The pure sensory overload of the large building did nothing to calm his already jumbling nerves. 

****  
  


“There they are.” Maura’s voice was small and breathless. She pointed to an area off a distance, towards the restrooms. 

His eyes followed her pointing and everything went silent. 

****  
  


The very second he saw her, everything stopped. His breathing ceased along with his movements. The only thing that mattered was the figure in the distance. 

The bokeh of the sunshine through the windows made Scully seem downright angelic. Mulder had no words to describe the feeling of safety that oozed into his chest like warm honey.  It spread from his chest throughout his body. Finally, he breathed out - the left side of his mouth rose with a partial smile and his body relaxed. 

There she was. Her hair was a bit longer and down - he had gotten so used to seeing her in hospital clothes, that he’d almost forgotten how youthful she looked when she dressed casually. She smiled and tears actually formed in Mulder’s peripheral. It had been so, so long since she’d worn anything other than a scowl and various looks of disinterest. The crinkle of her eyes made his heart flutter as memories cascaded through his mind. A paranormal pull yanked him from his spot - drawing him closer to her.

One foot in front of the other. 

Almost there. 

In front of him, Scully was obviously trying to calm Jane down.

He saw the Detective, who was unreadable but still intimidating. As he got closer, Jane’s face melted into pure, raw emotion. He debated on saying anything but it was pretty obvious that she was definitely looking right past him. 

The moment that followed was something Mulder did not expect. 

“What the fuck Maura. You said a surprise. I was thinking a cat or a fuckin’ hair cut! Dana! Dana!” Jane was now looking in his direction, her hands waving erratically while Jo Friday barked from her carrier. 

Mulder locked his feet into place and held his breath as Scully turned around to face him. He heard Maura quietly scorn Jane for her language off in the distance. 

It’s thought that it only takes 100 milliseconds to recognize someone. But, Mulder knew that Scully hadn’t seen him, really  _ seen _ him, in a very long time. Her eyes were wide and her hands frozen on Jane’s bicep. Her face stood frozen, unreadable to anyone. For a brief moment, Mulder was afraid she’d bolt. 

Slowly, her face crumpled and her hands came to her mouth. Her mouth opened a few times until the quietest whimper finally came from her. 

It melted his heart and mind. 

He was home. 

She couldn’t breathe. 

That was one of the only thoughts running through her head right now. She and Jane had spent a night two weeks ago with wine coolers and chinese take out guessing what Maura was bringing as her surprise but never once did they even think it could be this. It had never really dawned on her that, throughout this whole ordeal Mulder may actually return to her.

She looked to the side; Jane was standing there quietly after her surprised outburst. She looked at Scully and mouthed “They’re home”. All Scully could do was nod and look back at Mulder - who was making his way to her steadily. For years and years she’d looked him from top to toes, marching towards her with a purpose and every time it gave her butterflies.

This time was no different. 

As soon as she met his gaze, he quickened the pace and jogged to her. He really did look amazing with tanned skin and obvious muscles. This was a far cry from the pale recluse that hid in the basement for so many years. How had she ignored him for so long? What had  happened to him while she wasn’t paying attention. 

He opened his arms to Scully, who stood on her toes and slipped right in.  He felt slightly different physically, but regardless she felt at home. The cotton shirt he wore smelled of Mulder, detergent and aftershave - the magical combination that made Scully weak in the knees. The stress she’d carried in her shoulders for more than half a year started to dissipate with every second she stood in his embrace. 

They stayed that way until her calves were trembling. When they stood apart, she looked at him with watery eyes, the tears not quite falling. 

He was home.

Mulder had come back.

They were a team again. Mulder and Scully. 

“Mulder, I-” Scully tried to apologize. 

“Scully, later. Let’s talk later. I just want to live in this moment.”

She heard a large “whoop!” from the crowd and turned to see Jane dipping Maura into a kiss that was very similar to the vintage sailor photograph from the 40’s. People all around them clapped and cheered. She felt her center of gravity turn and she was dipped in the same fashion. She looked up at her husband’s charming face, so free from worry. The sight alone pushed Scully over the edge and she began to sob. 

“Okay, let’s do that,” Scully whispered as they returned to standing. “Let’s live.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this fic is kinda crawling by. I’m thinking of splitting the story into a part one and part two just to keep it more manageable for reading. :) Questions, comments, concerns can be left here or on twitter as @kathysuxx

  
  


Sunlight filtered into the cozy room, slowly enveloping the sparse furniture in a buttercream coating, making Scully wince and roll back over into the warm body snuggled up behind her. Dust particles shimmered in the daylight, making the room look like an airy sort of blizzard. She adjusted her legs, which were tangled and sweaty under the heavy duvet. For Autumn, Boston was not as chilled as it had been in previous years. _ Thanks, global warming.  _

 

She got comfortable once again and sighed happily once she realized that she would very likely fall back asleep. The dull monotony of Mulder’s breathing in her ear coaxed her back into a peaceful, dreamless slumber. She was never a fan of cuddling, but something in her had changed as she aged. Now, she particularly enjoyed sharing her space with someone, especially someone who was named Mulder.  Something about losing the love of her life multiple times over the last few decades had warmed her cold heart. 

 

After a long while, she woke again - this time alone in the bed. With a groan, she sat up and stretched her arms out in front of her body. Why she’d decided to fall asleep on one arm, she’d never know. It would take agonizingly long for the limb to stop feeling of pins and needles. As morose as it sounded, she had to get used to sleeping with someone else in the bed again. Granted she’d shared the bed with Jane a few times, but the bullheaded Detective liked to sprawl anywhere her limbs would fit. Sleeping with Mulder, even though he was larger than Rizzoli, liked to curl into himself. He was forever embarrassed by it - Scully found it charming and incredibly adorable. 

 

The smell of coffee wafted through the door and Scully moaned in a sinful way. She slid off the bed and and reached for her robe hanging off the door in a fluid motion. The cold tile of the floor stung her feet; she wasn’t quite used to wearing house shoes everywhere in their new home. She took this time to shut the curtains out of habit, muscle memory rushing back to the time when Mulder could not see light without a blind panic. 

 

Well, things had definitely changed over the years. According to the firm body she’d fallen into at the airport - even more had changed in the last few months. 

 

She looked over to the small side table, where the leather journal he’d sent her sat. The pages were no longer uniform and quite a few of them were missing corners from when dispatch called her in the middle of the night. 

 

The calls were fewer now, with Maura back - even unofficially - Boston Police Department had slid the responsibility off Scully’s shoulders. Jane said it was because they didn’t expect her stay around. Honestly? She usually would have left immediately. But, there were bigger and more important issues around, mostly to do with a certain boy in a certain championship in November. 

 

After Mulder and Scully listed the house out in the country, Jane had actually suggested that Mulder and Scully move into Maura’s recently available guest house until they found their footing. Scully didn’t mind - she had usually ended up sleeping at Jane’s before they’d reunited with their partners anyway. Plus Mulder did always have an affinity for small spaces, and Scully just wanted to be close to him. Things were so up in the air anyway, that trying to find another permanent place to stay seem ill fated. 

 

With small steps, Scully slipped out of the dark room. 

 

“Is that coffee I smell?” she cocked her head to the side playfully as she entered the toasty kitchen.

 

“Yes Ma’am; I know what you like in the morning.” Mulder shot back in the same tone, swaying his hips seductively towards her. 

 

She winked at him and did a half-hearted sashay towards the breakfast bar. “I know you do, Mulder.” 

 

If someone had asked Scully even ten years ago, if she’d ever see Fox Mulder in alien boxers, swinging his hips to Michael Buble while cooking bacon she would have laughed in their face and assigned a case number to them because obviously they were an x files. But, here she stood in just a robe and slippers, watching the man she’d loved for more than two decades, do just that. Plus they had orange juice, comfortably far from expiring. 

 

She truly loved this man, more than she had love anything in her life. She was such a fool to be so cruel to this magnificent person. A person who time had done nothing but use and abuse, yet he still kept that hopeful grin plastered on his face. If Mulder never found the truth, they would survive because Scully was sure that whatever  _ her _ truth was, it was most certainly Fox Mulder. 

 

He waved a hand in her direction and turned back around to tend to breakfast. She studied him like Grecian art, taking in the dips and tones that made up this man. He looked different - not better or worse - than she’d remembered him. No longer did she walk in front of him, eyes rolled to the heavens and embarrassed as all get out as she had done for years in the 90s. No, now she preferred to walk a step behind if not to catch a glimpse of his charming spooky derriere. 

 

The subject of intimacy had been a sore one for awhile. Partly because of the fact that her best friend lived about 200 feet to the west, but also because they had been avoiding the big talk they needed to have. It didn’t help that the whole entourage supposedly helping them had seemingly fallen off the radar. No one had heard from Skinner, Gibson Praise, or Stella - even though Scully would be less than excited to hear from the blonde who may have been her greatest moment of weakness. She was used to walking on a sexual minefield though, especially with someone who’d been mistreated like Mulder had. 

 

For years after he’d been abducted, he couldn’t even make eye contact with her. Not until well into her surgical residency at Our Lady of Sorrows, would he even shower with her. Not that she minded really, he had an affinity of washing her hair for her but using way too much conditioner. Which, she really didn’t have the heart to mention. The fact that he cared enough spoke volumes to her. 

 

What had happened to that person? Why did the small things do nothing but anger her anymore? When he’d left, he was the most attentive spouse on planet Earth. What had changed in her?

 

“November is coming.” Mulder kept his focus on the stove in front of him. “No one’s said anything.”

 

“I think they’ve been avoiding it.”

 

_ Well _ , they’d avoided it until now. 

 

Scully sighed, taking a moment to collect herself. The bubble they’d been living in for the last few weeks was about to pop and she wasn’t quite ready, as selfish as it sounded. 

 

“I know. What are we going to do?”

 

“Well, we’re going to D.C.- that’s a given.” he started. “Did you see Gibson on television?”

 

“I watched the same thing you did. Stella told-”

 

“Yeah,” Mulder grimaced. “Can we leave her out of this for now?”

 

Embarrassed, Scully nodded and accepted the plate of food he handed to her. 

 

“I, I just don’t want to think about that right now. Right now, I want to focus on William. Scully, he’s almost an adult. I-”

 

“I know. I feel it too. This is going to be big. I don’t think I can face him. I’m so full of shame.”

 

“Why though? You made the single best parenting decision that you could. We’ve been over this, Scully.”

 

“I know, I know. I must sound like a broken record and I know everyone has forgiven me. But, the only person I haven’t made peace with is the person I’ve been tormenting myself over for more than a decade. He is my son - our son - and he doesn’t even know.”

 

“I hate to play Devil’s advocate with this, but what if he does know?” Mulder asked, still flipping bacon on the stove. “What if he’s expecting us?”

 

“Well, that’s not really a situation I had planned for.” Scully mulled it over. “I really don’t think I would know what to do.”

  
  


“So, you watched the same thing we did?” Maura asked, blowing lightly on her coffee. She struggled to stay balanced so the hot liquid did not spill on her new Givenchy gloves. 

 

“Yeah, it was super fuckin’ sad. Like, I’m so heartbroken for them.” Jane paid the man at the cart and turned around. “Maura, I - I want to go help them.”

 

“When they go to D.C.? I do too. Did they...erm...tell you what their specific subject of investigation was?” Maura’s tone was hesitant. It wasn’t every day that a friend told you about their paranormal careers. 

 

“Aliens and shit? Hell yes she did. I don’t think it’s like Mars Attacks! Or something like that. But, the thing is...I kind of believe them.”

 

“I...am certainly perplexed. I don’t discount the validity of their work but I really don’t know how to explain all the events Mulder told me about.” Maura nervously pulled at the bottom of her blouse. 

 

“Oh Maura,” Jane started with a laugh, “You’re going to love Dana!”

 

“Yes,” Maura blushed and gave Jane a small smile, “I believe that I will. 

 

After breakfast, Mulder and Scully had decided to stay in and appreciate the ever cooling Boston Autumn. Scully, who was forever cold, was wrapped in a large blanket that Jane boasted was handmade in Colorado by her old friend Rondo who had a small shop there. She’d always made Scully promise they’d go the Jazz Cafe that sat behind the quiltshop - Scully always declined because travelling without Mulder was no longer fun. 

 

Mulder was sat on the couch apparently going over book details. Scully knew he’d been writing a book, but hadn’t wanted to press the issue when they’d reunited. Of course, when she gathered the forwarded mail there were various letters from publishers and bookstores, but it seemed like something he would tell her about in time. 

 

“So, did Skinner give you any contact info?” she asked, measuring his reaction carefully.

 

Mulder cocked his head towards her. He looked youthful with a pencil behind his ear. Better than throwing it in the ceiling - there was a certain fear Scully always had with all those sharp utensils jutting out of the cheap ceiling above his head. 

 

“No. He told me to pretty much leave him alone. I think maybe he got a little too close and had to cool his tracks down.” 

 

“Mulder, I - I know you’re the impulsive one, but I really can’t wait much longer. I need to see William, I have to make sure he’s okay.”

 

“I know, Scully. I do. But, we really only get one shot at this, and I don’t want to ruin what could be the only time we get justice for the times committed against us. 

 

“I have a need, a visceral need, Mulder. I need to see him, to touch him, to know that all of this pain and heartbreak was worth it.”

 

“I do too. I may have an idea, but it’s a strange one.” Mulder sat down next to her and adjusted the writing utensil behind his ear. “What if we go to see William compete, but  _ we  _ don’t actually go?” 

 

Scully was quiet for a moment, trying desperately to understand what Mulder was talking about. 

  
  


Jane hung up the phone and turned towards Maura. At first glance Maura nearly chuckled at the confusion written all over the detective’s face. Her steely detective just shook her head and motioned for them to keep moving. They walked like that for a few more blocks, stopping only outside the Boston Police Department building. The warm wind whipped through their legs, reminding Maura that she needed to have Jane mow the lawn once more before the temperatures dropped low for the year. 

 

“Okay, Jane. I can’t wait any longer. What did Dana ask you? Your face is something I really can’t describe, and the amount of words I know is quite high!”

 

“Mulder came up with a plan. I can’t tell if it’s genius or it’s a flop. I really can’t. I’m really strugglin’ here. It’s just so  _ out there! _ ” 

 

Maura just looked at Jane expectantly. “Well, that is their stance on their ever-sought  _ Truth _ , so I’d think he’d produce no less…”

 

“He wants us to go to that spelling bee contest as  _ as them.  _ Like, we will check into hotels as them, and enter the facility as them. Apparently, their informants have gone cold. So, if we go as them, they’ll go as us.” Jane scrunched up her face and shook her head. “All I know is that if I have to cut my hair I’m nixing it all!” 

 

Maura winced at her volume, “Well, Dana and I do have similar proportions. Mulder has a few inches on you but, I suppose it would work. You could wear a wig?”

 

“Or a hat!” 

 

“No!” Maura yelled with a chuckle, “Mulder does not wear hats. I may have only known him for a little bit but I do know that.”

 

“What if you went as Scully with Mulder and vice versa. That way one of us is at least legitimate.”

 

“Maybe we should get together with them and talk it out.” Maura suggested. “This is giving me a headache and I still have so much paperwork to do in the morgue. 

 

“Okay, I’ll call Dana and we’ll meet up tonight?” Jane’s expression was still confusing but at least she’d quieted down. 

 

Maura hummed in agreement and walked up the stairs to BPD. Whatever Jane, Scully and Mulder decided, it had better not involve anyone wearing a hat. 

  
  



	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I’m ending part one here. I have part two blocked out and it will be written soon. It will not be nearly as long but I think that this phase of the story is over. Thanks so much for your support!

  
  


“Mulder I just don’t see how this is gonna work!” Jane yelled out, her Boston vernacular more pronounced than it had been in a while.

 

“Jane, just hear me out. I just want to fake out anyone who will be in the crowd!” Mulder gruffed back from across the room. 

 

Maura sat with her knees tucked under her on the couch. The fireplace was crackling - filling in the awkward gaps between the aggressors fighting in the room. She looked between the feisty brunettes and just shrugged at Scully, who looked ridiculously over this line of conversation.

 

“Well, I just don’t see how it would work Mulder. No one is supposed to know who you are or who you’re there for. It’s gonna be a mass of nerd parents. Honestly? You’ll blend right in! Besides, if they do send people, won’t they know what you look like? I mean, Maura and Scully can kind of pass as either other. But you and I do not at all. I don’t get why we are supposed to switch places?”

 

“Are you calling me fat?” Mulder cocked an eyebrow at Jane. 

 

“No, I’m not. Stop saying it like it’s an insult anyway. You’re just stockier and taller than me. It would never work! Also, I refuse to cut my hair. I mean I could-”

 

“No!” Scully and Maura said at once - their collective interest finally piqued. 

 

“No hats,” Maura elaborated, smiling softly at her fiance, “for the third time. Sorry Jane but no hats.”

 

Jane just rolled her eyes and motioned towards Mulder, who was currently chewing on a pencil and rocking in the recliner. “Well, if genius has any other ideas, this would be a good time for it!” 

 

Mulder eyed her warily and then spoke. “Okay. I think I have a plan!”

 

Scully sighed from the end of the couch opposite Maura. 

 

“What if we just catch him after?” Mulder started. “We can watch from the back and send Jane or Maura to make contact with Gibson.”

 

“I mean, it’s better than sticking Mulder in my v neck and camisole,” Jane added. 

 

Scully laughed at this, “I don’t think v necks are really Mulder’s fashion but I mean if he wanted to wear them i wouldn’t tell him not to.”

 

“And the camisole?” Maura challenged her couchmate.

 

Scully raised an eyebrow and winked at her, “Would you let Jane wear a baggy button down?”

 

Maura stared at her partner wistfully, “Oh, I believe I would.”

 

Scully tilted her head knowingly and nodded quietly. Maura looked over at Mulder who seemed lost in thought. After a few moments he spoke. 

 

“I mean so long as there’s no lace, lace is too itchy.”

  
  
  


Later that night, Mulder and Scully had uprooted themselves from the warm cozy living room and braved the cold outside to walk the small trek to their temporary home. By the time they’d stumbled in with goosebumps and runny noses, Scully had gathered the courage to talk about the issue that had been gnawing at her weeks. 

 

“She didn’t mean anything.” she started. “I know that the subject of Stella is raw for you. But, you have to understand that it was less about sex and more about -”

 

“Mourning? Sorrow? Yeah, that seems to be what she’s good at.” Mulder whispered. 

 

Scully waited a moment before continuing. “We don’t have to dawdle on it, but I just needed to say that. It’s been months and I truly hope I never see her again.”

 

“I’m not going to lie and say that it didn’t hurt. But, I will say that I know Stella and when she wants something, there’s not much that can stop her.” 

 

“I mean, she didn’t do anything wrong. I consented.” 

 

“Oh, I didn’t mean that. I just mean that she knows she’s  _ persuasive  _ and she knows exactly how to push buttons and...well…I’m kind of jealous.”

 

“Of me? You want to sleep with her?”

 

“No, Scully.” Mulder paused for a moment, letting the implications set in. While she figured it out, he walked to the bedroom. 

 

“Ohhh, I see. I mean, it’s not too late and I  _ could _ use some body heat to warm up.” Scully caught up and shut the bedroom door behind them. “I’ve been waiting for a sign for a few weeks now. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

 

“Of course,” Mulder laughed quietly. “I’ve been doing the same for you. We really are walking on eggshells, huh? I hate that it’s awkward, Scully. It’s never been awkward for us before.”

 

“Actually, we were pretty tense after Diana Fowley interfered.” Scully look at him knowingly. 

 

“That’s because you were mad at me for our history. Not my fault I pick bad exes!” 

 

The look that Scully shot Mulder could melt steel, then she dissolved in laughter as she shut off the light. 

 

“Hey, I meant before you!” He pleaded and turned the light on beside him on the table.

 

“It’s not that!” Scully wheezed. “It’s that I was so mad at you for sleeping with a woman way before we’d even met. Now, I understand because I may have accidentally turned the tables.”

 

“Huh. I guess you did.” Mulder sat down on the bed with a lip curled up in mock disgust. “You’d think that being a primordial male, the thought of that would be arousing but honestly all I feel sad that her black cloud got to you too.”

 

Scully joined him on the bed and snuggled into his side. She picked up his arm and slung it over her shoulders. “Well, how about you chase that black cloud away. Or, you could just take off my pants.”

 

“Why Scully, I’d love to.” Mulder wiggled his eyebrows and shut the light off on the bed side table. 

  
  
  
  


The next few weeks passed rather uneventfully. Boston chilled slowly as snow blanketed the boisterous town. Consumers flooded the streets, overwhelming large and small shops alike. The coffee cart that all of Boston Homicide swore by had closed its doors for the winter. So, being a dedicated (and caffeine addicted) detective, Jane Rizzoli now stood in line at the small cafe inside the precinct. Slowly she rubbed her palms halfway out of nervousness, the remainder due to the dull ache the permeated when it got cold. 

 

She looked up and saw Scully, sitting at a table with a book and reading glasses. The normally rigid Doctor looked...comfortable. It was a strange sight, but one Jane reasoned was much better than the Dana Scully she’d met all those months ago. 

 

The manager of the cafe waved Jane away when she tried to pay for her coffee - something about owing the Rizzoli family a lot. So, Jane dropped a dollar in the tip jar and waved to the crew behind the counter before making her way over to her friend. 

 

She set the cup down lightly and waited for Scully to see she was there. After a few beats, Jane sat down and bored her eyes into her friend. 

 

“Staring isn’t helping, Detective,” Scully replied while holding up a finger. After a few minutes she looked up and closed her book. “Okay. Sorry, I needed to finish that. What’s going on?”

 

“We leave tomorrow, Dana. We leave in 18 hours and you haven’t said jack squat to any of us. Are you okay? I know that we have kinda drifted since our partners came back, but you can still talk to me.” Jane pleaded, squeezing the foam Dixie cup in between her palms. 

 

“I-I just don’t have words right now, Jane. I’m going to see my son tomorrow and I have no idea how it’s going to go. I don’t like the unknown - I’ve had enough of that in my lifetime. We have no plan, no backup, and no guarantee that this won’t all go to shit.”

 

“Apparently you do have words! “ Jane removed her hands from her precious coffee and grabbed Scully’s. “Just know that no matter what happens, know that you have a lovely gang of ragamuffins here to be here for you and Mulder.”

 

“I appreciate it. I’m not quite used to the feeling of being in a large loving group. My family has slowly fallen off the radar and friends didn’t really exist after the first time my life was in danger.”

  
“Weeeellll,” Jane drawled. “If there’s anything Rizzoli’s are known for, its being loud, rambunctious, loyal - and most of all - annoying.”

 

Scully hummed in response. 

 

“Hey I have to go see Maura but we’ll all leave for the airport tomorrow morning. Okay? If you two need to sleep over, there’s no shame. Tomorrow is a big day and I want to be there for you both as much as I can. Okay?”

 

“Okay.”


End file.
